


Solving Burbank

by dettiot



Series: Finding Home [3]
Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 18:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 54,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dettiot/pseuds/dettiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The road to the altar will be a bumpy one for Chuck and Sarah.  It’s not because of their relationship, though--it’s their jobs causing the problems.  Old friends and new enemies will appear as they try to eliminate Fulcrum.  Will two spies get to live happily ever after?  Continuing the story of Discovering Omaha and Building Rome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So here we go, with the start of the third story in the universe I’ve named Finding Home. I so appreciate anyone who’s reading this new story, sticking with this version of Chuck and Sarah through a lot of ups and downs. I’m really excited to share this with all of you.
> 
> I know a lot of people really don’t like Bryce. I happen to think he’s fascinating and I’m really glad that I’m getting a chance to write him in this story. However! The presence of Bryce does not mean, in any way, shape or form, that he will be breaking up Chuck and Sarah. That is the last thing you have to worry about in this story. Okay? Okay. Then let’s get this show on the road!

As she stepped through the deserted office building, its large windows revealing a snow-covered cityscape cloaked in darkness, the only sound was her boot heels hitting the marble floors. There was no reason for her to do this task now, in the middle of the night; in her position, no one could touch her. Not even the most powerful terrorist in the world. 

But there was something about the late-night hours that made the distance between herself and her past seem much smaller. It was when she could fool herself into thinking that someday, she might return to her old life. 

Once she was in her office, she waited until the door was locked and the cameras were looped before opening the envelope hidden underneath her coat. Turning the envelope over, she watched as its contents fluttered out and spread over the desktop. 

They were photos. Stills from surveillance cameras mostly, with a few candids pulled from websites and printed on glossy cardstock. A beautiful brunette woman, wearing a wedding dress on a beach and smiling at a handsome blonde man. A tall man with the same coloring as the woman, dancing with her at what appeared to be the wedding reception. A shaggy-haired older man with hunched shoulders, standing between the clearly-related man and woman and smiling brightly. 

The woman looked over the photos slowly, observing everything she could about the interactions of this family unit. For clearly, that’s who these people were: a family. A father and his two children. She didn’t miss the appearance of a stunning blonde on the arm of the son, a woman who had never appeared in these family photos before. But from the way the blonde looked at her date, it was equally obvious that she was part of the family now, too. 

Accompanying the photos was a single half-sheet of paper. All it had was the name of the blonde and what was known about her. 

_Sarah Walker. Born Samantha Singer in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Daughter of currently-incarcerated con artist Jack Burton. CIA agent since the age of seventeen. Partner of Charles Bartowski for the last year._

She looked at the photos again. The blonde was much more than Bartowski’s partner. They were obviously together. Perhaps thinking about a wedding of their own. 

Letting the photos fall to the desk, the woman turned in her chair to gaze out the window. The snow was falling faster now, blotting out the lights from the city. Yet the woman could feel sunshine on her face and sand under her toes. 

Daydreams were as close as she would get to the moment captured in those photos. For fifteen years, she had been watching this family. Seeing the girl and boy grow up, seeing the man become even more tired and unhappy. Observing how the man disappeared as the girl and boy became a young woman and a young man. And now, here they were, together again. Together and growing their family. Totally forgetting about the woman who used to be part of their little circle. 

The woman straightened in her chair and turned back to the photos. Her memory was nearly photographic; she would not need to keep the visual evidence. As she had done every other time her source sent her this kind of information, the woman took out a large glass ashtray and a book of matches. Slowly and methodically, she burned each photo and crumbled the ashes into the envelope, the trash to be discarded as she left the building. Last was the piece of paper. The flames ate up the page, burning brightly as it ate the words “Charles Bartowski.” 

If she had been a different kind of woman, she would think it was a sign. But instead, she emptied the ashtray one more time, then removed the looping from the security cameras before leaving for the night. 

XXX

The baseball cap was the male spy’s best friend. Hid you from cameras, made you look younger, caused eyes to slide away from you. Only a good pair of sunglasses did more. 

So of course, Bryce Larkin was wearing both sunglasses and a ball cap as he made his way through the streets of downtown Seattle. Even though he was dressed no differently from the other men on the street--jeans, a windbreaker, sunglasses and hat, sneakers on his feet and a backpack over one shoulder--he still felt conspicuous. Like he stood out too much. 

Perhaps it was the sunglasses, even though Seattle was experiencing a rare sunny day. Or maybe it was the simple fact that ever since he had left Washington, D.C., he knew there was a target on his back. Invading CIA headquarters to take out a double agent would do that to a spy suspected of being rogue, Bryce admitted to himself. 

As he crossed Fourth Avenue, he glanced over his shoulder. He felt somewhat reassured there was no sign of anyone following him. He joined the crowd waiting for the doors to open at Seattle Public Library’s central location, a soaring multi-story structure of glass and steel. 

Within five minutes, the library was open. Bryce made his way to level five, feeling disgruntled at the thought of taking five flights down if any trouble developed. But since all the computers were on that level, he had to deal with it. And at least with all the glass, he could see any aerial assaults approaching.

He did his best to act like a college student. He settled in at a computer, using an ID for Jackson Peoria to gain access. It was the name that had been on his college fake ID; a rare moment of nostalgia had made him use that name for his current identification. 

Launching the word processing software and pulling a few books out of his backpack, he bent over the keyboard, his fingers flying over the keys. After twenty minutes of typing gibberish, he paused and leaned back in his chair, acting like he was taking a break. Then he opened the web browser and pulled up a variety of websites: Yahoo! e-mail, a Google search page, the online New York Times, and the homepage for the Seattle Public Library. He also accessed AIM Express. 

Within fifteen seconds of logging into the instant messenger program, a chat request came in. Bryce raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t given out his username; he had set one up for Jackson Peoria only to protect his cover if he was being electronically monitored. It appeared that he was. 

Glancing around idly, he didn’t see anyone watching him. He ran a few web searches on Google and skimmed an article in the New York Times before looking at the chat request. 

_TonyTesla: Pulling out the old favorites?_

Bryce blinked. He knew that name. When he looked around this time, he didn’t try to be smooth. He stood up a little and searched the library, looking for the only person he knew with that name. 

_TonyTesla: I’m not there, but I can see you. Nice ball cap. Didn’t think you were a Mariners fan._

When had Chuck become so cocky? Bryce frowned a little. Or maybe it wasn’t Chuck. The tingle on the back of his neck, the one he got when danger was approaching, was pinging like mad. He quickly typed a question into the chat window.

_J_Peoria: How do I know who this really is?_

It took a moment for the reply to come and Bryce felt that tingle increase with each second. But the response allayed most of his fears. 

_TonyTesla: Perhaps I should have used Dick Jobs._

It was all Bryce could do to hold back a snort of laughter. While he had always used a president’s last name and a city name to create the name on his fake IDs, Chuck had used superhero first names and scientist last names. And one night their freshman year, while helping Chuck brainstorm, Bryce had come up with Dick Jobs. Ever since, it had been an inside joke for them, something they only talked about in private. Because Chuck always turned red as a beet when he said “Dick Jobs.” 

_J_Peoria: Okay, so I believe it’s you. But this isn’t a secure line._

_TonyTesla: I know. You need to come in._

_J_Peoria: Can’t._

_TonyTesla: You can’t hide forever._

_J_Peoria: No other choice._

_TonyTesla: There’s always another choice. Come to Los Angeles and find out._

For Christ’s sake, Chuck was the freaking Human Intersect, shooting up the ranks of the CIA, and had a hot girlfriend who was also an agent, according to the scuttlebutt. But he was still a Boy Scout. How was that possible? Bryce took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. 

If Chuck was still as earnest and forthright as ever, it was likely he was still as stubborn as he used to be. So there was little chance he’d let Bryce keep putting him off. He didn’t know what Chuck knew about him. And he didn’t know if this conversation was about an old friend finding him or a CIA agent tracking him. 

Bryce blew out a breath. Either way, he needed to find out more. And he couldn’t do that on a library computer. 

_J_Peoria: I’ll think about it._

_TonyTesla: Think hard, please. :-)_

With a snort, Bryce closed out the chat window and began logging off the computer. Only Chuck could disarm you unexpectedly with an emoticon.

So maybe in the year and a half since they had seen each other, Chuck hadn’t changed that much. Not like Bryce, who felt old and jaded well beyond his twenty-five years. Part of it had to do with how his career opportunities had dried up after what he had done at Stanford. First being sent to a listening post in the Falklands, then a low-level assignment in Canada--Bryce knew he was being punished for what he had done. For trying to sabotage Chuck. But he’d do it again if the opportunity presented itself. He couldn’t wrap his mind around funny, goofy, exceptionally nice Chuck Bartowski as a spy. Sure, he was brilliant, but that wasn’t enough in the field. 

Shoving his books into the backpack, Bryce began preparing to leave. If Chuck had been able to find him, so would Fulcrum. After being on the run for a month, he wasn’t about to let them get him. It would be a death sentence. But that’s what you got when you shot Fulcrum’s hand-picked choice to upload the new version of the Intersect, thus destroying a major operation that was their last chance at success. 

He would have to find someplace new. As he walked out of the library, looking around, he wondered if he should go in. Meet Chuck someplace, find out what he wanted. LA was as good a place to stop as any, and if things got too hot, it’d be easy enough to slip away into Mexico. Of course, he could just head north and go to Canada, but after nine months there, working out of the Toronto field office, Bryce had gotten his fill of snow and hockey--although not Tim Hortons.

No, Los Angeles was a better choice. Even if he didn’t feel safe talking to Chuck, it’d be good to see what he was up to. Because he missed his old friend. And he was more than a little curious to see just what kind of spy Chuck was. 

Shoulding his backpack, Bryce began walking down Fourth Avenue towards the main Amtrak station. Taking the train would be easier than flying, and it would give him plenty of time to develop his strategy for approaching Chuck.

XXX

It was the middle of the night, but thanks to an unexpected January warm spell, Chuck was wearing just a short-sleeved black t-shirt with his dark jeans. His arms were extended in front of him, holding a tranq pistol and flashlight while he swept his eyes over the room filled with cubicles. He moved slowly, putting his Chucks-clad feet down carefully to eliminate any squeaking rubber against the still-shiny hardwood floors. 

“Anything yet?” Sarah’s voice was soft as she spoke over the comms. 

“Nope,” Chuck said, looking around the room carefully before starting to open desk drawers and cabinet doors. “How about you?” 

“Nothing so far.” She sounded slightly annoyed. Chuck felt the same way; he had wanted to follow Bryce’s path after their chat conversation, as his former roommate left the Seattle Public Library, but tonight was their only chance to examine this former Fulcrum base. But when Fulcrum had pulled out of the office building, it looked like they had removed all their equipment and supplies. 

It had been a month since they had moved to Los Angeles, and while he and Sarah were all thrusters firing on a personal level, Chuck worried that they were stuck in neutral when it came to work. Although the CIA was eager for them to bring in Bryce, their major goal was to eliminate Fulcrum. In the time that Chuck had been working to find Bryce, both he and Sarah had been spending time trying to track down anything that would be the final nail in Fulcrum’s coffin. 

While they had recovered various pieces of data about Fulcrum’s agents in the past, there was still the Holy Grail: Fulcrum’s complete organizational structure and full agent list. In their last briefing, Director Graham had indicated that if Chuck and Sarah could get that, Fulcrum would be done for. 

Considering the number of times he had heard that one, Chuck wondered if he should believe the hype yet again. But since eliminating Fulcrum--removing a major threat both to the world and preventing the terrorist group from getting the Intersect--would mean it would finally be safe enough for Sarah and himself to get married . . .

Taking a deep breath, Chuck told himself to stop being so paranoid. There was still no evidence that anyone in Fulcrum knew about him. Knew that he had the Intersect. They were as safe as two CIA agents could be, and he hated that he was letting anything dampen his enthusiasm about getting married. But in some prehistoric part of his brain, what Fulcrum might do to Sarah in order to get him made Chuck very worried. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Fulcrum tried to use Sarah as leverage.

He knew how sexist that sounded. And he was more than aware of just how well Sarah could defend and protect herself. She could do that better than he could, that was for sure. But that didn’t mean he wanted to risk her. And it was even worse when he thought about the danger to his family and friends, if Fulcrum found them. 

“What’s your status, Chuck?”

Sarah’s voice made him realize he had been daydreaming. “Give me a few more minutes.” He finished searching the cubicles and headed towards the line of offices along the back wall of the room. “Can I say it? I miss Casey.” 

“Casey hated this kind of investigative work,” Sarah reminded him. “He would have been grumbling all night about the CIA’s girly tactics.” 

“Still, I do miss him,” Chuck said before pausing at the first door to flash on some lockpicking skills. “Ironic, since it took us so long to be friends.” 

A soft chuckle was Sarah’s only response. They worked in silence for the next ten minutes, before Sarah blew out a breath softly. “I think we can bag the search. If we haven’t found anything yet, we’re not going to find anything.” 

Chuck paused. It was rare to hear Sarah sound as frustrated as she did right now. “You sure? There’s still a few more offices up here.” 

“I suppose we should check them out,” Sarah said, a bit grudgingly. “I’ll be up there in a few minutes to help you search.” 

“Understood,” Chuck said, picking up his pace. By the time Sarah joined him, there was only one office left, but they still found nothing. He holstered his tranq gun and looked at Sarah. 

Even with messy hair and a plain black t-shirt, Sarah Walker was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. It still made him catch his breath when he realized that someday, they would be married. That Sarah would be his wife. He didn’t know how he got so lucky, but he was going to do everything in his power to make her happy, to love her as much as he could, and to make their lives together everything they wanted. 

“Are you worried about Bryce?” Sarah asked, taking his hand. “Because you’ve been quiet ever since you made contact with him.” 

Chuck nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know if I did enough to convince him to come in.” 

“These things move slowly. It’s like a dance,” Sarah said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. 

“I know,” Chuck said, lacing his fingers through hers. He rubbed his thumb against the finger where her engagement ring would normally be, if they weren’t on a mission. “But I could have stayed on his trail, been able to make the next move.” He frowned. “Or would that scare him off? Make him go to ground?”

“It’s possible,” Sarah said. “But he’s your friend. You’d know him better than I would.” 

“Honestly, I’m wondering how well I knew him at all.”

Sarah gave his hand a gentle tug. “Hey, it’s all going to work out. I know it.” 

He gazed at her. Somehow, her confidence in him never seemed to flag. And when he got discouraged, she always seemed to know how to pick him up. 

So the only possible action was to kiss her softly. She smiled against his lips, but pulled back. “C’mon. Let’s go home and get some dinner.” 

“Have I ever told you that you’re really the one with all the brains in this partnership?” Chuck asked, grinning at her. 

She laughed softly, her cheeks going pink. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Agent Bartowski.” 

“Like home with my fiancée, Agent Walker?”

“I would say yes,” she said, her voice a little prim even as her eyes sparkled. “Let’s get out of here.” 

His usual rule of thumb for his life was “Whenever possible, agree with Sarah.” This was one of those times he was really happy with that rule. 

“Yeah, let’s go home,” he said, walking hand-in-hand with her out of the office building. 

End, Prologue


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the prologue! The story starts in earnest with this chapter. And speaking of thanks, an incalculable number of those goes to Steampunk.Chuckster, for being such a great first reader.

After their failed mission on Friday night, it was very tempting to spend Saturday in bed. When Chuck woke up around eleven, the fact that Sarah was warm and soft and so close made staying in bed an even more attractive idea. To cuddle in against her and enjoy two whole days without any major work commitments looming over them . . . But Chuck still had commitments, just of a social variety.

But that didn't mean he got right out of bed. Because watching Sarah sleep was still one of his favorite things to do, even though it was no longer a novelty.

Chuck leaned in and nuzzled her softly. "Sarah . . ." he said in a coaxing voice.

She let out a soft, adorable grunt before batting at him. "Go 'way."

He snickered. "So you're not joining me on my run, huh?"

Even with just one eye opened, Sarah's glare was powerful. "I'll take that as a no," Chuck said with a grin before kissing her lightly. "See you later."

Sarah grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and kissed him back. "Think about what I said las' night, okay?" she requested sleepily before rolling over.

"I will," he said softly, knowing that she was probably already asleep.

As he got dressed in running clothes and tied his sneakers, he kept his promise by thinking about Sarah's request: that they should tell Ellie, Devon and Morgan about their jobs.

About their real jobs, that is.

He hated lying to Morgan and Ellie, but he just couldn't see a way to tell them about what he and Sarah did without them wanting to get involved. Morgan would nose his way into every mission, while Ellie would fuss about the danger and the risk. He didn't want to worry either of them-or take the chance that they might get caught up in this life and get hurt.

Ironically, it was Sarah who had been gently prodding him to reveal the truth while he had been hesitant to take that step. Just last night, she had argued that having two doctors on-call to help with any medical emergencies, without having to think up a cover story, would be invaluable. She had admitted she had a harder time seeing the benefits to telling Morgan.

"But he's your best friend and you tell him everything. Someday, you'll slip up and then you'll worry about Morgan's hurt feelings, because you hadn't told him before." She smiled softly at him, brushing back some of his hair.

"I don't tell him everything," Chuck said, moving closer to Sarah in their bed and kissing her slowly. Like always, she responded to his kiss, sliding her arms around his neck and moving underneath him. And while that ended the conversation for the night, it hadn't halted it entirely.

As Chuck jogged slowly towards the park near their apartment, he considered whether Sarah's points outweighed his own. It was true, it would eliminate one kind of stress to bring those closest to him into the world he now lived. But wouldn't that just create new stress?

He shook his head. Given how much was going on in their lives, telling people about being a spy was low on the priority list. They had wedding planning, debates about buying a house versus continuing to rent, and socializing with Ellie and Devon and Morgan; then there was their work lives. Between juggling their cover jobs as computer consultant and human resources director and their spy work, both of them had very full days.

To any outside observer, Chuck and Sarah were no different from any other couple. And that was the idea. He just hoped they could keep it going. And that Sarah wouldn't try to change his mind, using all of the weapons in her arsenal.

And that thought made him both blush and smirk a little.

Rather than continue deliberating such a thought, Chuck finished his warm-up. Turning up the music on his iPod, he stood at the beginning of the jogging trail, looking out at the people running and playing and enjoying the park. Then, he took off, letting his feet pound against the asphalt and pushing away all his concerns for the time being. Letting himself just run.

He wasn't sure just how long he had been running when the sound of his cell phone ringing broke through the music in his headphones. Dropping down into a jog, he fumbled a little to pull off the headphones, pause the music and check the phone's display to see who was calling. But he answered the phone with a smile. "Hi, sis."

"Chuck, you sound winded." Ellie Woodcomb didn't beat around the bush. She had that "worried big sister" tone in her voice.

"Because you caught me mid-run," Chuck said, slowly easing into a walk so he could talk to her. It would also let him avoid running into anyone, since the park was full of people enjoying the continuing warm spell like Chuck was.

"My little brother, the athlete. Something else I can thank Sarah for," Ellie teased.

"I don't do it just for her. But I'm no Captain Awesome, so I have to work out to stay in shape." Chuck grinned as he waited for Ellie's reaction. She didn't disappoint.

"I hate that name. If everything is awesome, that means nothing is awesome." He was pretty sure Ellie was rolling her eyes as she raised her frequent objection to her husband's nickname.

"I know, El," Chuck said, taking a swallow of water from a fountain by the jogging trail. "What's going on?"

"I wanted to know if you and Sarah wanted to have a date night with Devon and me. Dinner, maybe a movie, something. Ever since we got back from the honeymoon, Devon and I have been so wrapped up in work that I have no idea how you're doing with your new job or anything."

His sister sounded so hopeful, so eager to be part of his life. Chuck wondered if something was bothering her. He drew up short. "Ellie? Is everything okay?"

"What? Yes, of course it is." Ellie sounded tense.

"Really?" he asked, hoping he sounded supportive under his doubt.

Ellie sighed. "Well . . . I guess I had hoped that when Dad came back for my wedding, he'd stick around. Instead of disappearing again."

Chuck spoke softly into the phone. "Yeah, I know. I was kinda hoping that, too."

Not long after the testing on the Intersect 2.0 was completed and Chuck and Sarah had left D.C., Stephen Bartowski had vanished again. But this time, Chuck knew exactly where he was: in a secure CIA safe house, equipped with all the computers and electronics he'd need to keep improving the Intersect. The CIA and NSA had decided that they couldn't allow Stephen to fall off the grid like before, so they had "encouraged" him to stay in a safe house. If he hadn't, they were prepared to throw him in a bunker.

That was something Chuck was going to hold against Graham and Beckman for the rest of his life. His father had done nothing wrong-nothing illegal, at least. But just because his dad didn't want to be at the government's beck and call and was willing to go to ground in order to stay away from them, the CIA and NSA had somehow made Stephen Bartowski agree to go into the safe house. A safe house where he wasn't permitted any contact with the outside world unless it had been extensively vetted by the CIA.

In his heart of hearts, Chuck hoped that his employers hadn't held the safety of his children over Stephen's head, but he wasn't sure. And that bothered him. Almost as much as the message that his father had managed to smuggle out to him, the one he had received in Rome with information about his mother. It was so little to go on: just a codename and the resulting flash. Chuck needed to know more, but with no way to contact his father securely and privately, he was on his own.

He took a deep breath, wanting to reassure his sister. "Ellie, I'm sure he's okay. And we'll hear from him soon, I bet."

"We better-after all, you'll want him at your wedding." She was trying to sound upbeat and positive, he knew, trying to make the best of a bad situation. It was something he loved about her: how she so rarely got defeated for very long.

"That's true. I do want him there. But we've got plenty of time to find Dad before the wedding."

"When are you and Sarah going to get married?" Ellie asked curiously. "You've barely talked about the wedding."

"We haven't set a date yet . . ." Chuck said, trying to figure out what to say. Because while he could tell Ellie that they hadn't decided when to get married, he couldn't tell her why the decision hadn't been made: because both Chuck and Sarah knew that they wouldn't have the time for the wedding festivities until after Fulcrum was eliminated. Not to mention the fact that until Fulcrum was gone, until they could no longer pose a risk to Chuck as the Intersect, it just didn't feel right to get married.

"I just don't understand why you two are going so slow. Sarah's perfect for you and you're perfect for her. Once Devon and I got engaged, I couldn't wait to get married."

It was all Chuck could do not to sigh and rub a hand over his face. Ellie was definitely in extreme big sister mode. "I hear you, but you and Devon aren't me and Sarah. C'mon, El, don't make me sound ungrateful for your advice."

Ellie blew out a breath. "I know. I'm sorry . . . I just want you guys to be happy."

"We are happy. I swear, Ellie. You'll see that at dinner. When's good for you and Devon?"

With a social outing to arrange, Ellie cheered up. They ended the call on good terms, with plans for dinner on Wednesday night. As Chuck started jogging again, he wondered at Ellie's mood swings. She sometimes got ultra-protective like this-Morgan would call it a mama bear phase. This one seemed a bit more extreme than normal. Maybe Sarah was right-maybe it was time to tell Ellie about his real job. If she knew he could take care of himself, and had Sarah watching his back as well, perhaps she would be less worried and could just enjoy the great life she had.

Chuck picked up his pace, resuming his run and letting his mind roll over these thoughts. He'd need to give Sarah a heads-up about the call from Ellie and their upcoming dinner plans. Maybe Sarah would be able to help reassure Ellie. And they would need to do some talking about their wedding, too. Ellie was bound to be full of questions and opinions, and if she tried to corner Sarah for some "girl talk" he didn't think it would end well.

That thought prompted a grin. Imagining Sarah, a trained spy, attempting to fend off Ellie's advances, fighting off the bridal magazines and wedding websites . . . it was funny. But he wouldn't throw Sarah to the wolves like that. When he met Sarah for their standing Saturday afternoon sparring session, he'd break the news to her.

There was just so much to do, Chuck thought as his feet pounded against the trail. As he dodged around a hunched-over runner moving a lot slower than himself, Chuck went over the rest of his day. Sparring with Sarah, then dinner and maybe a movie. Tomorrow he would be hanging out with Morgan, indulging in some quality video game time. Morgan had seemed extra-wired when they had talked yesterday, but since there hadn't been a big new video game release for over a month, Chuck wasn't sure why-unless his best friend was really overdoing the Red Bull.

It would be a good weekend, he thought. One that he was going to enjoy as much as he could, since he could use the mental break.

Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was nearly time to meet Sarah. Although Ellie's phone call had cut into his run, his muscles were still warmed up enough to handle getting his ass kicked by his fiancée.

Smiling a little at how good that sounded, and how insane that made him, Chuck left the jogging path and headed home.

XXX

When he stepped into their apartment, Chuck noticed two things. One, the furniture that came with the apartment had been pushed back against the walls. Two, Sarah's fist was flying towards his face.

He quickly ducked, managing to dodge her blow. Chuck grinned. "A sneak attack, huh?"

"Wanted to make sure you weren't getting rusty," Sarah said, her own grin fixed on her face.

"I don't think that's possible with you around," he replied, watching her as they circled each other. "You always keep me on my toes."

Sarah gave a small shrug and another grin. "So what do you want to try today?"

Usually in their sparring sessions, Chuck picked a martial arts style or technique to work on, using the Intersect if necessary. He had been pleased to discover that not only was the supercomputer in his brain becoming less and less needed due to the continued training with Sarah, but what he learned on his own stuck with him and superseded the Intersect's programming. Just as Stephen had promised when he was telling Chuck about the Intersect 2.0.

But today, he felt like something different. "Why don't I surprise you?"

"Risky, Agent Bartowski. Very risky." Sarah's grin practically became feral. He could almost see her licking her chops, thinking up all the ways she could win this fight.

It was extremely arousing and slightly intimidating. "Just remember, if you break it, you bought it," he said, calculating his first move.

She smirked at him, then she moved. He wasn't fully prepared for the speed of her attack, so he stepped back and turned her speed against her. While Chuck would bet Sarah was physically stronger than he was and definitely faster, she was still shorter than him, with a less-impressive but still very effective amount of range. That, and his endurance, were his advantages.

Their sparring sessions weren't usually this intense. Not since those early days back at Project Omaha. But even though he was soaked in sweat and getting bruises on top of his bruises, Chuck kind of liked how things were going today. Because Sarah wasn't holding back with him. Not even a little bit. And it felt really good to stand toe to toe with her.

If he didn't know better, he'd think she had an Intersect just for fighting. His fiancée was the best martial artist he had ever seen. The term artist fit her: the way she combined different styles and moves, reacting in the blink of an eye to whatever he threw at her . . . she dazzled him. Because she could switch styles in a heartbeat: combining capoeira and muay Thai when she was on the attack, then changing to aikido or jiu jitsu when she was defending. She could use her lower center of gravity to throw him, when she got close enough for them to grapple. Those might be his favorite moments: when she was maneuvering herself to put him in some kind of hold, letting them struggle while pressed up against one another. Partly because he kept testing himself for how to escape her hold without hurting her, and partly because each of them enjoyed the physical contact. In fact, they really enjoyed it.

After the longest half-hour of his life, Sarah finally brought him down and pinned him to the floor. "Give up?" she said, panting and sweaty and glorious.

Chuck nodded, unable to speak. Sarah grinned widely, then slumped down on top of him.

"Ooof," he said, slowly lifting his hands to rest at her waist. "How'm I supposed to breathe wit' you on top o' me?"

Sarah huffed out a small laugh and wiggled, moving her upper body to the side but still straddling him. "Better?"

"Yeah," he said, taking a few deep breaths. Already she was breathing easier, recovering faster than he was. "How do you do that? You're good to go like that." He snapped his fingers.

"I've been doing this longer than you have, Chuck."

"Is this like that 'old age and treachery overcomes youth and skill' line?" Chuck said, draping an arm around her.

"So you're calling me old, then." Sarah sighed dramatically. "Obviously, the magic is gone."

Chuck laughed. "No, I'm not calling you old. My brain feels as beaten up as my body."

She shifted again, propping herself up on her arms and gazing down at him. "You did really well today. Would you like to know what your reward is?"

Something about the sultry tone in her voice made his whole body, as tired as it was, stand to attention. "T-there's a reward?" he asked, looking up at her with wide eyes.

"Mm-hmm," she said, leaning in to ghost a kiss over his lips. "A nice, long, hot shower, then a massage. Performed by yours truly."

"Oh, that sounds . . ." His voice trailed off when he couldn't think of a word that accurately described just how good that sounded. Chuck swallowed. "But you're the winner-it doesn't seem fair that I get the reward."

"Believe me, Chuck, it's a reward for me, too." She brushed her nose against his, her gaze soft and caressing.

"I love you," he said, the words coming out of him from the depths of his soul. After spending months holding back on saying them, he couldn't tell her enough just how much she owned his heart.

Sarah smiled back at him, her eyes lighting up. "I love you, too. C'mon, baby," she said, pushing herself up and holding a hand out to him.

Taking her hand, he pushed himself up as she pulled. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Enjoy sleeping in?"

"Mmm, yes," Sarah said, smiling up at him as they walked through their apartment to the bathroom off the master bedroom. "As much as I could by myself. How was your run?"

"Good, although not as long as I wanted. Ellie called me."

She glanced at him as she started the shower. "What's up with Ellie?" she asked, sitting down to untie her sneakers.

"Well, at first she just invited us out for a date night-we're not doing anything on Wednesday, right?"

"Nothing so far," Sarah said, pulling the holder from her ponytail and shaking her hair out.

"Good, that's what I thought. We're having dinner at that Japanese place in Silver Lake-the one I can never remember what it's called," Chuck said, toeing off his own sneakers and pulling his t-shirt over his head.

He felt her hands stroking his sides while his shirt was covering his face, but by the time he got the shirt off, she was on the other side of the bathroom as she stripped off her own clothes. Chuck arched his eyebrow at her.

Sarah grinned and shrugged. "Can't blame a girl for feeling you up," she said saucily before she stepped into the shower.

With a laugh, Chuck finished getting undressed and joined her. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his front. As the hot water pounded over them, Chuck closed his eyes and let himself savor this moment.

It was times like this that delaying their wedding seemed so pointless. If he thought Ellie would forgive him, he would hop on a plane to Vegas with Sarah right now.

But he did want a wedding. He wanted to see Sarah walk down an aisle towards him, wearing a white dress and that just-for-him smile. He wanted his friends and family to meet Sarah's, for all of those people to see how in love they were. He wanted a day that he would remember the rest of his life.

And although he knew he didn't need a big fancy wedding for that, he still wanted something more than a quickie wedding performed by an Elvis impersonator.

He let out a chuckle at that thought. Sarah moved in his arms, turning to face him. "What's so funny?" she asked, picking up a bottle of shampoo and beginning to wash her hair.

"Thinking about running away to Vegas to get married."

"You know that option is still on the table, in my opinion," Sarah said, tilting her head back both to look at him and to keep the soap out of her eyes.

"Shhh! If we're not careful, Ellie will burst in here and put an end to any talk of Vegas." Chuck widened his eyes comically and looked around. Sarah laughed, which was just what he intended to happen.

"Okay, okay," Sarah said through her giggles. "I suppose Ellie is getting antsy though, huh?"

"That's putting it mildly," Chuck said, taking the shampoo and working on his own hair.

"Date night will be a good time to reassure her," Sarah said, rinsing out her hair and continuing with the strange female beauty rites she did.

"That was what I was thinking," Chuck said, grabbing the bar of soap and running it over his chest. "Reading my mind again there, Sarah."

Her smile was small yet extremely pleased. Although whether it was from his compliment or because she was enjoying the view, he couldn't say.

Letting Sarah finish up in peace, Chuck rinsed himself off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. He rubbed the condensation off the mirror and checked his jawline. There was enough stubble there that he went to work to remove the fledgling beard. By the time he was done, Sarah was out of the shower to continue her beautifying.

Although he never felt like Sarah needed any of it, all the creams and lotions and everything. He had seen her covered in mud, with extreme bedhead, even in a hospital bed after one mission that went very wrong. And she was beautiful in any and all situations. So he didn't quite understand why she needed all that stuff. But growing up with a sister who liked to hog the bathroom had taught Chuck to never question a woman's beauty habits. So he just smiled at Sarah and leaned in towards her. "Smooth enough?"

Sarah gently stroked his skin and then kissed his cheek. "Perfect." She picked up a comb and ran it through her hair. "What do you want to do for dinner tonight: Chinese or pizza?"

"Let's be wacky and order Thai," Chuck suggested. "I could use some curry."

"We'd both have to get curry, then," Sarah pointed out, looking at his eyes in the mirror as she worked on a stubborn knot. "Because otherwise, the non-curry eater won't want to kiss the curry eater."

"I'd kiss you even if you had just eaten all the curry in India," Chuck said, smiling at her.

She laughed and smiled at him. "I can't say the same. Sorry, Chuck."

"Chinese, then?" he asked, shaking out his wet hair a little.

"You want to call in the order?" Sarah asked, putting down the comb and opening up a jar. "Egg drop soup and sesame chicken for me."

"I"m on it," Chuck said, kissing the top of her head quickly and heading for their bedroom. Sparring always left them both starving, so any further activities were always put on hold until after they had eaten.

By the time Sarah had padded into the living room, he had gotten dressed, called in their food order, and started moving the furniture back into place. She helped him, then sank down onto the couch. "Ooh."

"Yeah," Chuck said, dropping down next to her. "This is a reason to get a house. We'd have a space for workouts and sparring without having to keep moving the furniture around."

She nibbled on her lip a little. "I know, but it's a big step. And with our careers, we might be buying something that we'd be stuck with. A house that we'd only get to live in for a year or two before we'd move on to a new assignment."

It was a very logical position. One that he couldn't help agreeing with. But that didn't change his dream of a house, maybe a dog, and someday a baby. He wanted all of that and more with Sarah.

He wrapped an arm around her. "You're right. But it's something to think about in the future."

As she curled in against him, she nodded. "Yes." She looked up at him. "Did Ellie and you talk about anything other than the wedding?"

"Why do you ask?" he asked, looking down at her.

"You've got a wrinkle," she said, reaching up to press her fingertip gently between his eyebrows. "Right here. And that means you're thinking about something." She brushed his hair back from his forehead, her fingers gentle as she gazed up at him.

It was funny how Sarah could notice things about him, things he hadn't even realized. Well, not that funny, he thought. With her powers of observation and the fact that she knew him inside and out . . .

Chuck gathered his thoughts. "Ellie and I talked a little about my dad. And that made me think of what happened to him, and what he told me about my mom, and . . ."

Her hand kept stroking his hair as she spoke gently. "We haven't really made much progress on looking for her. Maybe it's time we focused on it."

"I want to," Chuck said. "But there just seems like there's so much to do, and never enough time."

Sarah gave him a lopsided smile. "Welcome to being a spy."

He huffed out a laugh. "I know, I know."

"Seriously," Sarah continued. "There are avenues to consider. We just have to make time for it. We can do it."

Taking a moment to mull it over, Chuck then shook his head. Although he had flashed on his mother's code name, any attempts to access information through the CIA had yielded nothing. He guessed it had to do with his and Sarah's clearance levels not being high enough. That meant he would need to illegally enter the CIA databases to find out what they knew about his mother.

"As much as I want to find my mom, it's such a big risk to go poking around for information right now. I mean, we've only been back here a month, we haven't produced any real intel on Fulcrum, and although we know where Bryce is, we still don't know what his story is."

"Better to get caught doing something wrong when you have recent successes to make you look good," Sarah said. "Strategically, you're right. But are you sure you want to wait?"

"No," he conceded, running his hand up and down her back. "But I think we have to. And there's still the civilian databases I could hack first, ones that are a lot easier to get into than the CIA's. It might help us know what to look for when we to get the CIA's info."

"Since I leave the computer stuff to you, that works," Sarah said, smiling at him. The sound of a knock on the door made her pull away. "That's the food. Which means . . ."

"Time to relax," Chuck said, returning her smile.

Watching her answer the door before bringing their food over and fussing about with the napkins and chopsticks and containers, Chuck savored the immense wave of satisfaction he felt. True, there were clouds on the horizon. But they were together, and they could face whatever storms might come.

And clearly, the lack of hunger was making him poetical. So with a grin, he started eating while their conversation shifted to wedding planning and just what Morgan had to tell Chuck tomorrow night.

XXX

Walking into the Buy More was always a little bit of a culture shock. Sure, he had worked here in college during summers, so he should be used to the peculiar brand of insanity that infected the workers of the electronics store. But whenever Chuck stepped inside, he never failed to be surprised at the strangeness.

Such as the sight of Big Mike wearing a giant green costume, shaped like a box with the letters BM in yellow on his front and back.

"Bartowski!" The store manager's voice contained enthusiasm and hope. "Are you looking for a job? Never have found anyone to compare to you on the Nerd Herd."

"Um, thanks, Big Mike," Chuck said, feeling somewhat at a loss for words. "No, I'm good with the job I have. Just here meeting Morgan and to pick up a few games."

"Make sure the bozos at the register give you the employee discount." Big Mike nudged him, as best he could in his costume. Then he headed over to a clump of customers who had just walked in, handing them flyers.

Chuck shook his head and started looking for Morgan. He found him over by the TVs, wearing a grey suit with a bright green tie. It was a very un-Morgan look, although the sneakers that matched his tie was very Morgan. "Hey, buddy. Looking sharp," he said, amused and a little surprised at his friend's attire. "But you're awfully dressed up for a Sunday."

Morgan turned to Chuck, looking a bit nervous. "I know. But, y'know . . . this is how the assistant manager is supposed to look."

Assistant manager? Morgan?

"Seriously?" Chuck asked, grinning widely. He quickly hugged Morgan. "That is fantastic!"

"Can you believe it? Me, Morgan Grimes, world's biggest screw up, and I'm now in middle management!"

Laughing, Chuck pulled away. "I wouldn't say you're the world's biggest screw up."

"That's sure how I felt after being fired from Underpants, Etc.," Morgan said. "But look at me now!"

"Look at you!" Chuck echoed, feeling so proud of his best friend. "Up high!"

Morgan high-fived him and grinned. "So now you know why I wanted to celebrate."

"Oh, yeah, we're definitely gonna celebrate," Chuck said. "Let's grab some food. My treat, to honor the best assistant manager the Buy More's ever gonna have."

His best friend's olive complexion went red as he blushed. "Aww, Chuck . . ."

"Sky's the limit. You want to get some sizzling shrimp, then head over to my place? We'll have the apartment to ourselves."

"Where's Sarah?" Morgan asked as they walked towards the front doors.

If Chuck was honest, he had worried a little that Morgan might not like Sarah that much. It was one thing when he met her over their vacation last year; Morgan only had to be on his best behavior for a week. But once Chuck and Sarah had moved to LA, he thought he might get caught between his girlfriend and his best friend. But happily, Morgan seemed fine with hanging out every so often instead of all the time. So having him ask about Sarah showed just how far Morgan had come.

"She's catching up on some work, then she said something about doing some shopping."

"Uh-huh, gettin' a little somethin' special for the two of you?" Morgan asked, nudging Chuck and waggling his eyebrows.

"Okay, buddy, you know you're my best friend, but some things are private," Chuck said, grinning a little to remove any sting from his words. "I'm not gonna provide you with some vicarious thrills."

"Bye, Morgan," said an Asian woman wearing the Nerd Herd uniform and a lot of makeup. She gave Morgan a little wave as they walked past her.

"Anna, see you tomorrow," Morgan said, ducking his head.

Chuck did a double-take. "Or maybe you don't need the vicarious thrills," he said once they were out the doors.

Morgan's expression was slightly bashful. "That's Anna."

"I heard. So tell me more."

That was all Morgan needed to start talking. The whole way to Chinatown, while they were waiting for their sizzling shrimp at Bamboo Dragon, and on their way back to the car, Morgan rhapsodized about Anna and how awesome she was and how much he liked her and how scary she was.

Based on his years of friendship with Morgan, Chuck was pretty sure that no real dates had happened so far. But there had definitely been a lot of time spent "hanging out." It was just a matter of time before Morgan would ask Anna out officially.

It was good that Morgan was carrying the brunt of the conversation, because Chuck was somewhat distracted. Because he was pretty sure they were being followed.

As they walked into Bamboo Dragon, he caught a glimpse of a man's back, entering the alley beside the restaurant. That momentary look almost made him stop in his tracks, because he had a feeling that he knew the man.

When they left the restaurant with their bags of shrimp and noodles, Chuck casually looked around as they walked back to the car. And about halfway there, he got the same sense from another man. It wasn't the same man, he was pretty sure, although he wasn't positive. It might just be someone who was changing his clothes in order to avoid Chuck's notice.

Once they were in the car and he was driving back to Echo Park, in-between telling Morgan to leave some shrimp for him, Chuck kept a close eye on his mirrors. And a third of the way home, he picked up the tail. A nondescript black Toyota, maintaining a thirty-yard following distance.

Chuck's hands gripped the steering wheel as he figured out what to do. With Morgan in the car, alerting Sarah without tipping off Morgan would be tough. But the last thing he wanted was Morgan getting caught in any crossfire.

Traffic started to snarl as they approached Dodger Stadium, but Chuck didn't want to bank on losing the tail in the bumper-to-bumper cars. "Hey, I feel like cupcakes. You mind if I swing over to the Grove?" Chuck asked, not waiting for Morgan's response before turning back towards the 101.

"Sure!" Morgan said. "Be good later on, after some video gaming."

Chuck did his best to grin back at Morgan as he glanced at the rear-view mirror. The Toyota was still following him. Good.

Once he reached the outdoor shopping mall, he pulled into the garage on Grove Drive, the tail car driving past and dropping out of sight. After Chuck parked the car, he quickly got out and walked to the passenger side, leaning to speak to his friend through the open window. "Morgan, you stay here, guard the sizzling shrimp. I'll only be a few minutes."

"You sure, Chuck?" Morgan frowned. "I can come with . . ."

"No, no, stay!" Chuck said. "Hey, I got the latest issue of Game Informer today, it's in the back seat. There's a roundup of rumors about new hardware for the PlayStation and XBox."

As he hoped, Morgan immediately turned and reached into the backseat. "Gimme a red velvet and a vanilla!" he called out to Chuck before sticking his face into the magazine.

Having Morgan out of harm's way relieved Chuck's fears somewhat. If Morgan stayed in the car, Chuck could deal with whatever was going on. As he walked, he reached into his pocket and opened his phone. By feel, he sent Sarah a text message with the word SOS. Thanks to their pre-arranged code, she knew that meant to track his location via his phone's GPS and meet him. If he could keep the tail distracted and following him until Sarah arrived, everything should be fine.

The Grove was not too crowded for a Sunday afternoon; Chuck guessed that the post-Christmas sales hadn't been enough to bring people out on this cloudy day. He walked with his hands in his pockets, trying to look casual as he made his way towards the small bakery tucked away near the farmer's market.

When he paused by a shop window filled with mirrors, he noticed that the man he had seen in Chinatown was the tail. He was about five foot ten, with a muscular but slim build. Dressed in black and wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, the man turned his back to Chuck as if realizing he was being watched.

Chuck took a deep breath. This part of the Grove was much less trafficked; it was a good place to force a confrontation. The complex had opened when he was in high school, and with all the time he and Morgan had spent here, Chuck considered himself an expert on the place. And he knew there was an alley just ahead that he could use.

Stepping away from the display window and ambling along, Chuck looked straight ahead, trying to give no sign that he knew he was being followed. He walked past the mouth of the alley, then at the last possible moment he turned into the space between two buildings. There was a dumpster about ten feet down the alley: perfect cover. Chuck ran and skidded behind it, wishing he had at least brought a tranq gun with him today.

The tail stopped and turned down the alley, his eyes sweeping around. He walked slowly and cautiously, the dimness hiding his face from Chuck. It was all about timing now.

When the man paused and looked towards the mouth of the alley, Chuck knew it was the moment. He closed his eyes and willed the flash to come, feeling the Intersect help compute the best angle of attack. Then, without any delay, Chuck opened his eyes and moved away from the dumpster.

It took precisely three seconds of fighting for Chuck to realize that this guy was good. Better than Chuck, although not as good as Sarah. They grappled with each other, both of them trying to get the upper hand. In the scuffle, the tail's hat fell to the ground, revealing black hair that flopped into his face.

In the end, Chuck got a lucky shot in, one that knocked off the man's sunglasses. And once he got a good look at his face, Chuck drew up short, his hand still cocked back for another punch.

The man in front of him looked thin and drawn, shadows under his blue eyes. Eyes that Chuck knew very well and hadn't seen for a year and a half.

Panting, Chuck could only say one word. "Bryce?"

End, Chapter 1


	3. Chapter 2

Chuck had met Bryce Larkin in the fall of 1999. They had become roommates in their sophomore year and spent their free time together, playing video games and seeing who could eat the most Red Vines without throwing up. In the spring of sophomore year, Bryce had convinced Chuck to do fraternity rush, and when they had both gotten into the same frat, they continued sharing a room.

Bryce was always happy-go-lucky, confident, charming. He was the kind of guy that girls wanted to date and guys wanted to be. At least, Chuck had always wished he was more like Bryce, especially when Chuck was trying to get Jill Roberts to notice him. Bryce was passionate and opinionated and just fun.

But the man standing in front of Chuck now didn't bear much resemblance to his memories of his best friend from college. This Bryce looked . . . hunted. Anxious. The spark seemed to be gone. His eyes kept darting around the alley, and before Chuck had fully recovered his wits, Bryce broke free of Chuck's hold and scooped up his hat and sunglasses.

"Not bad, Chuck. Although your muay Thai could definitely use some work."

"Bryce? What the hell are you doing following me?"

The shorter man rolled his eyes. "Why do you think?"

Before Chuck could respond, there was a click of heels and Sarah was at the mouth of the alley, her gun held at her side and her expression concerned and focused.

"Chuck?" she asked, glancing at Bryce before looking back at him.

At least now he had backup. Chuck frowned. Did he need backup with Bryce? Suddenly, all the questions he had about his old friend were crowding his mind. He gave his head a shake and gestured for Sarah to join them.

"Well, well," Bryce said, his eyes running up and down Sarah. "They're making partners a lot prettier than I remembered." He held his hand out to Sarah. "Bryce Larkin. And you would be?"

Sarah ignored Bryce's hand as she passed Chuck one of his guns, drawn from the back of her jeans. "How many times have I told you, you should always have this?"

"I was just going to be hanging out with Morgan," Chuck said, feeling annoyed that Sarah was bringing this up now. "Who is still in the car waiting for me."

"Do you know what I thought when I got your message and realized you didn't have any way to protect yourself?" Sarah said, annoyance creeping into her voice.

"You know, if I'm interrupting a lover's tiff, I can leave and come back later," Bryce said, sounding a bit more like his old self.

Chuck took a deep breath instead of snapping at Bryce. If he gave in to that urge, it would just keep this encounter on the wrong foot that it had started out on. And although he wanted to reassure Sarah, to apologize for making her worry and try to make his point about not needing a weapon when he was with Morgan, that couldn't be his priority right now.

So he reached out and rested a hand lightly on Sarah's shoulder, a move that could be explained as friendly if necessary, before turning to his old friend. "Bryce, enough. Are you coming in?"

The other man shrugged. "I'm here. I'm outnumbered. Do I really have a choice?"

"Yes, you do," Chuck insisted. "You made the choice to come to Los Angeles. To find me. So?"

He wasn't quite sure where this assertiveness was coming from. Over the course of their friendship, he had usually deferred to Bryce, letting him be the leader. But then, this wasn't about what party to go to. It was a lot more serious.

But this still didn't feel right, so he changed approach. "We'd like to talk to you, Bryce. Would you come with us?"

"What about Morgan?" Sarah asked softly.

"I'll deal with Morgan," Chuck said, keeping his eyes locked on Bryce. He tried to make his voice sound friendly and non-threatening. "What do you say, Bryce? I have to say, I've got a lot of questions-and they're not all about what's happened over the last couple of months."

For a long moment, Bryce's blue eyes were locked on Chuck's brown ones. Then Bryce nodded. "Okay. Let's talk."

It was all he could do not to sigh in relief. "Okay. Okay, great." He paused, his mind racing, then he turned to Sarah. "You take Bryce to the base. I'll drop Morgan off at his house and join you there."

Sarah nodded, her eyes wary as she looked at Bryce. She switched her gun from her right to her left and held her right hand out to him. "Sarah Walker. It's good to meet you, Agent Larkin."

Bryce shook Sarah's hand, his eyes running over her. "Very good to meet you, too." Suddenly, he reached out and grasped Sarah's left wrist, seemingly ignoring the gun in her hand. He turned her hand palm-down and let out a soft whistle. "Nice rock, Agent Walker."

As Bryce's eyes flicked from the ring to Sarah's face and then to Chuck's, Chuck felt a chill go over him. Would Bryce jump to the correct conclusion? If he did, there went any chance of keeping his relationship with Sarah on the down-low until they had gotten the information they needed from Bryce. And with that kind of knowledge, Bryce could keep them off-balance by asking questions instead of answering them.

And again, he was thinking of Bryce as some kind of threat. This was getting ridiculous. Bryce was on their side, for the most part. After all, he had taken out that double agent, prevented Fulcrum from getting the Intersect for themselves. That had to mean he was a good guy, didn't it?

The problem was, Chuck wanted to draw that conclusion about his old friend, wanted that to be the only conclusion he could make. He didn't want to believe that Bryce Larkin from Connecticut was some rogue spy who was trying to destroy the world.

In response to Bryce's comment, Sarah lifted her chin and spoke coolly. "Thank you, Agent Larkin." She tugged her hand out of his grip and tucked her gun into the back of her jeans. "If you'll walk with me, my car is parked nearby. We'll be at our base in twenty minutes. Although I will need to blindfold you. And if you change your mind about coming in, I'm afraid I'll have to change it back."

Her voice was deadly serious and Bryce simply nodded. "Okay."

If Chuck didn't already have plenty of evidence about how Bryce had changed, that single word response would have convinced him. Because Bryce would have normally taken such a show of dominance and done his best to rattle the other person.

What the hell had happened to him?

That question, and many others, would have to wait, though. "I'll walk with you," Chuck said, looking at Sarah. He hoped they might get a moment, find a way to get Bryce out of earshot so he could apologize.

She nodded and gestured to Bryce. "Go ahead. Agent Bartowski will be right behind you."

Although it made him uncomfortable to stick a gun in his friend's back, it made more sense from a tactical standpoint for him to cover Bryce. And since they still didn't know his intentions, they had to act cautiously.

The three of them made an odd group as they walked towards Sarah's Porsche: Chuck, practically on top of Bryce to keep any civilians from spotting the gun, while Sarah walked just behind and to the right of them. Once Bryce was in the Porsche, handcuffed to the door handle and with a blindfold over his eyes, Chuck turned to Sarah. "Sarah-"

"I know," Sarah said, resting a hand on his forearm. "I'm sorry, too. I overreacted when I got your message and realized you didn't have a weapon." She gave him a small, sheepish smile. "Forgive me?"

"Only if you forgive me, too," he said, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

"Definitely," she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek quickly. "You better go explain things to Morgan."

"Yeah, that's not gonna be a fun conversation. We were gonna celebrate his new job-he's assistant manager at the Buy More now."

Sarah looked sympathetic as she rubbed his arm. "I'm sorry, Chuck."

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "Me, too. But duty comes first." He planted a kiss of his own on her cheek. "I'll see you at the base as soon as I can. Be careful."

"Always am," she replied with a small grin, before pulling away and getting behind the wheel. With a roar, the car left the parking lot and merged smoothly into the traffic on Beverly Boulevard.

Leaving Chuck to find a way to explain to his best friend why they couldn't hang out after all. Chuck sighed. He had been looking forward to spending time with Morgan-and to getting a break from work. It looked like yet again, he was disappointed. He just hoped Morgan could forgive him for bailing on their plans. He wasn't sure if sizzling shrimp would be enough in this case.

XXX

The CIA had outfitted a small, nondescript office building, as remote as you could get in the sprawl of Los Angeles, for their base. When he stepped into the second-floor conference room that adjoined the private offices, he found Sarah pacing. It wasn't like her, so he immediately went on alert. "Sarah? What's wrong?"

Sarah stopped and turned to face him. "How long were you friends with Bryce? Three years?"

"Closer to four," Chuck said, feeling confused. "Why do you ask?"

"How did you put up with him?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest. "I just can't see how you were friends."

"I've been wondering the same thing," Chuck admitted. "Bryce has changed a lot in the last year and a half, it looks like."

She nodded and took a deep breath. "Not to change the subject, but how did Morgan take you backing out on him?"

Chuck winced. "Not good. I promised we'd have a do-over tomorrow night."

"We'll make sure you can do that," Sarah said, resting a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "But first, we've got to get something from Bryce."

"You don't think we should call it in first? Let Director Graham know that he's here?"

"Let's see what we can find out," Sarah said. "Test the waters."

"All right," Chuck said, squaring his shoulders. "I think I should go in first. If I say 'waffle' you come in and we'll regroup."

"Waffle?" Sarah asked, wrinkling her nose. "How are you going to make that word come up in conversation?"

"Easy-Bryce's favorite food is fried chicken. And what goes with fried chicken but waffles?" Chuck grinned at Sarah and kissed her cheek, trying to act more confident than he really was. Then he turned and walked down the hall to the interrogation room.

The small room was dark, thanks to the black sound-absorbing material on the walls. A two-way mirror allowed the interrogation to be observed while a slim microphone hung from the ceiling to record conversations. A single spotlight, next to the mike, shone on a table and two chairs.

In one of those chairs was Bryce, sitting up straight with his cuffed hands resting on the table. He looked bored. Like he knew what to expect, knew everything that would be asked of him and knew how he would respond. Like he couldn't hope for anything different than what he thought would happen.

But Chuck didn't want him to feel like that. He wanted Bryce to relax. To feel like he could be honest with them. Without honesty, without trust, there was no way to know if Bryce's information was accurate. And more than that . . . Chuck had missed his friend. He would like to have him back, if that was possible.

"Hi, Bryce," he said, dropping down into the other chair.

"Chuck," Bryce said dryly, looking at him. "Your partner is an interesting woman."

"That's not what you would have said in college," Chuck replied, leaning back in his chair. "It would have been some combination of the words hot, sexy, beautiful or future Mrs. Larkin."

"She's a future Mrs. all right, from that rock on her finger." Bryce lifted his eyebrows, looking at Chuck.

It took all Chuck's training and determination to keep his face neutral, to not let Bryce draw him off on a tangent. After several seconds of staring at him, Bryce shook his head and sat back. "Wow. They managed to turn Chuck Bartowski into a real spy."

"Yep," Chuck said, shifting in his chair. "But we're not here to talk about me." He paused, letting his words hang in the air, before leaning forward. "So what happened before graduation, Bryce?"

For just a moment, Bryce looked surprised. Then he schooled his face into blankness. "We took finals."

"That's not what I mean, Bryce," Chuck said, keeping his voice low. "From the minute I told you I had gotten recruited, you changed. You barely talked to me, you left after graduation without saying good-bye . . . we were friends for four years. You helped me talk to girls, I got you through object-oriented programming. We had a lot of good times together. Why did my recruitment change things?"

"Is this why you were supposed to bring me in?" Bryce asked. "To ask me questions about college?"

"Of course not." Chuck resisted the urge to show his frustration by running his hands through his hair. "But I thought we could get that out of the way. Deal with the personal before we got to what the Agency wants to know."

"And I think we should keep this professional," Bryce countered. "There's no reason to dredge up ancient history."

"Ancient his-Bryce, we graduated a year and a half ago."

Bryce shrugged and Chuck nearly rolled his eyes. This diffident air might work for spy missions, but in real life, acting like you didn't care was something that annoyed Chuck beyond words. Why act so cool, especially with someone who had seen you at so many embarrassing moments in your life? Because although Bryce was pretty smooth, there were times when he hadn't been-and Chuck had been there for them.

But if his old roommate wanted to act like Chuck hadn't seen Bryce remove spines from his ass after a romantic encounter gone wrong in the Arizona Cactus Garden or watched him get drunk at the Mausoleum Party and nearly scare himself to death, Chuck wasn't going to rock the boat. Not now, at least. Because Bryce did have a point: keeping things professional would let them deal with the important issues at hand, namely defeating Fulcrum and clearing Bryce's name.

Chuck wanted Bryce to have his career back. To be cleared of any suspicion. And he also wanted Fulcrum to be gone, wiped off the map, totally eliminated. Because it was past time for that terrorist group to be dismantled. And, as a bonus, the sooner that Fulcrum was gone, the sooner he and Sarah could get married.

So he was going to agree with Bryce and push aside his questions about what had happened to their friendship. But he didn't like how distant his old friend was, and Chuck was not going to let this go on forever. He wasn't willing to lose Bryce as a friend, even if Bryce himself wanted to throw away the history between them. Now wasn't the right time, but the two of them were going to work this out at some point.

"Fine, Bryce," Chuck said. "Let's keep this professional, then. Start with what happened when you left Toronto."

Bryce's expression was considering, measuring. Then he spoke. "I was assigned to Toronto after a year in the Falklands. It wasn't much of an improvement. About two months after I arrived in Canada, I realized I was being watched. Tracked. I suspected it was Fulcrum."

"Did you report this?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Why not?" Chuck asked curiously.

Letting out a quiet huff of laughter, Bryce shook his head. "I wasn't exactly in the good graces of the powers that be. That's why I was in the Falklands for a year, when most agents only get assignments of three months there. And that's why I got sent to Toronto." He paused, his eyes locked on Chuck's. "Unless I had real, actionable intelligence, I wasn't going to say boo."

Chuck swallowed but nodded. "So you were being watched."

"Yes," Bryce said with a nod. "By another agent in the office. I tried not to make waves within the office, but . . ." He rotated his wrists inside the handcuffs.

Kicking himself for not thinking of it sooner, Chuck pulled a set of keys out of the pocket of his jeans and uncuffed Bryce, who rubbed his wrists and nodded. "Thanks," he said before continuing. "I was doing good work in Toronto. I thought I was starting to leave my reputation behind me. And then, the agent who I believed had been watching me, he got assigned to a surveillance job with me and he spilled the beans."

Although Chuck wanted to press Bryce on his reputation, he made himself stay focused. "He told you, just like that?"

"Yeah. Up until the day he died, he kept doing dumb things like that," Bryce said. "I took him out about three months ago, to protect myself, although it felt like I was doing Fulcrum a favor."

His voice was so matter-of-fact. It was like he was describing taking out the trash, not killing another human being. Chuck stood up and paced for a moment, needing to take a step back. This unknown agent was Fulcrum and therefore the enemy. He shouldn't be that upset about his death. And while Chuck could logically understand the murder of your enemy, he was more bothered by Bryce. He wasn't vicious or gleeful about killing someone, he wasn't upset or worried. He was . . . cold.

Was this what a real spy was like? If so, Chuck suddenly found himself exceedingly grateful for the Intersect, for Project Omaha, for Sarah, for any and all reasons that kept him from being a "real" spy.

Taking a deep breath, Chuck made himself return to his seat and look straight at Bryce. "So he approached you about Fulcrum?"

There was a glint in Bryce's eyes, something that Chuck couldn't quite figure out. "Yes," he said. "He gave me a bunch of bullshit about how Fulcrum was going to help America become great again, that our intelligence agencies were on the wrong path and it was up to Fulcrum to bring them back to the light."

"Did you believe him?"

Bryce shrugged his shoulders. "Not really. I didn't agree with him on his perspective. Because there's no right or wrong here. There's just logic and reason, and anything else is whatever we need to get through the night. Spies don't have emotions."

How surprising-yet another point on which he disagreed with Bryce.

"But you pretended to be swayed?" Chuck asked, looking straight at his old friend. "According to Director Graham, you went AWOL and were suspected of joining Fulcrum."

For a moment, Bryce's eyes looked away from Chuck's. "Yes. I-I thought that I could gather information about Fulcrum from the inside and then find a way to pass it along to the CIA. Redeem myself by helping knock out a terrorist organization." He shook his head. "The joke was on me-the Fulcrum cell in Toronto was as low-priority as the CIA field office there. I realized pretty quickly that I'd gain nothing there."

"That must have been difficult," Chuck said quietly.

"It wasn't that much more difficult than spending a year in the Falklands, listening to screwing sheep and playing the Brits and the Argentines off each other when it came to who should control the islands," Bryce said, trying to sound casual. But there were cracks in the facade; Chuck could see the disappointment and shame in his eyes, before Bryce looked down at the table.

For a young, ambitious man to find himself in the position of being fooled like that, it must have been galling. Chuck could understand that. And it would be doubly so for Bryce, who had always seemed to excel at anything he attempted. To realize suddenly that he had picked the wrong side . . .

"What did you do then?"

"What could I do except keep playing the game?" Bryce asked, his voice resigned and his gaze still fixed on the metal table. "Although I started moving up the ranks quickly-there wasn't a lot of job security, so there was always chances for the new guy to get promoted fast."

Kind of like the Galactic Empire, Chuck thought to himself.

"The whole time, there was all this chatter about what Fulcrum wanted: the Intersect," Bryce continued. "I picked up enough scraps to know the gist of what it was, and I knew the last thing Fulcrum should have is a supercomputer they could put in their best agent: one Daniel Shaw."

"Did you know who he was?" Chuck asked. He had to admit, he was curious about this man who had become a double agent for Fulcrum.

"I'd heard of him," Bryce said. "That he was a top agent in the CIA's terrorism unit." He smirked. "Looks like the Agency misjudged him."

"That seems to be an understatement," Chuck said, giving Bryce a quick grin.

Bryce nodded and went quiet. Chuck's grin faded as he wondered what the other man was thinking. If Bryce was remembering what he had done to Shaw, all the blood that he now had on his hands. Blood that wasn't buying his way back into the good graces of the CIA.

His heart went out to Bryce, but they had to keep going. "Tell me about the Fulcrum attack on headquarters."

"Not much to say." Bryce shrugged his shoulders. "I had heard what Fulcrum was planning to do-get into Langley and get the Intersect into Shaw. When I found out when that was happening, I jumped my assignment and headed to D.C. I shot Shaw just before he was going to access the Intersect computer and got out. Then I went to ground."

"You weren't worried about Fulcrum figuring out that it was you? Tracking you down and killing you?"

"It seemed pointless to worry about it. Besides, they would have bigger problems than me." His voice was flat.

Before Chuck could think of what to say in response, there was a knock on the door, then it opened to reveal Sarah. "Agent Bartowski? Can I have a word?"

Her timing was impeccable; he could definitely use a break. Chuck looked at Bryce. "Do you need anything? Water, some food?"

"I wouldn't mind some water."

"Coming right up," Chuck said, standing up and turning towards Sarah. She cleared her throat and let her eyes flick over to the opened handcuffs. Chuck paused and tilted his head, then looked back at Bryce. "Do I have to cuff you, Bryce?"

"Not really my call, Chuck."

"I disagree. You say you're not going to try anything, I'll trust you." Chuck leveled his gaze on Bryce. "But if you don't give me something that tells me whether you're willing to work with us, I'll cuff you again."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sarah shift. He guessed she was skeptical about his approach but was willing to back him in front of Bryce. If they didn't show Bryce some kind of trust, he was bound to rabbit at the first chance he got. Bryce had never liked facing the music; he would put it off as long as possible. Dropping off the grid instead of turning himself in after shooting Shaw was just the latest example of that behavior. But maybe, if Bryce realized that they were on his side, he would be willing to stay and deal with what happened.

Bryce didn't say anything. Not verbally, not physically. Then, as if it was against his will, he shook his head. "You don't have to cuff me."

"Good," Chuck said, trying not to let his relief show too much. He turned and followed Sarah out of the interrogation room and into the observation area before slumping against the wall.

Sarah reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Okay?"

He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Yeah. This is a lot tougher than I thought it would be." Chuck pulled his hand away and looked at her. "He's changed more than I realized. He's not the Bryce I knew."

"You know that your personality changes through training and fieldwork," Sarah said gently. "Given his experiences, it's not surprising that you're having trouble seeing your old friend."

"I get that people change, but I mean, when I get around Morgan, I'm the same guy he's always known. I'm not some robot just because I'm a spy," Chuck protested.

"That's you, though, Chuck." Sarah started stroking his upper arm. "Bryce is a different person."

Blowing out a breath, he straightened up. "Yeah. What do you think?"

"He was pretty cagey on the details," Sarah said. "Now that we've got the big picture, we should start filling in more. If you flash on anything, that will help support Bryce's version of the events."

Chuck nodded and looked at Sarah. "Do you believe him?"

Sarah hesitated. "It doesn't matter if I believe it. What matters is if we can gather enough proof to support his story. But between you and me? It's a plausible sequence of events."

That was good to hear. As he had listened to Bryce, Chuck had been convinced by his tale. If Sarah felt that Bryce was telling them the truth, without really knowing him at all, it made Chuck feel more confident. Made him think that Bryce was on the level with them and they didn't have to worry about some kind of double-cross.

"Let's tag-team him," Chuck said. "With you in there, too, you can help with the questioning."

She arched an eyebrow. "You want me to play bad cop?"

"Not like that," he said quickly. "I just want Bryce to get a feel for you. So he doesn't try to play us off each other."

"That's a pretty suspicious mindset for someone who wants to believe his old buddy," Sarah said, both eyebrows now raised even as her voice was light.

"I do want to believe Bryce. And I think he's telling the truth. But until we know for sure, I . . . I need to remind myself to not go too easy on him."

Sarah's eyes filled with sympathy. She kissed his cheek lightly. "I'll be right there with you. And as soon as we get some real info from Bryce, we can contact Director Graham."

Chuck gave her a small smile. "Sounds like a plan. I'll grab a bottle of water for Bryce and we can get back in there."

When they stepped into the room, Bryce was right where they had left him. Chuck placed a bottle of water down in front of him, then gestured to Sarah. "Agent Walker will be joining us for this next round of questioning. We're going to need some facts to support what you've already told me, Agent Larkin."

He wanted to show Bryce that he was still part of the CIA. That they were working together to clear his name and that these questions were just a formality. He wasn't sure if Bryce understood that, but the other man simply nodded.

"Let's start with the Fulcrum agent who approached you in Toronto," Sarah said. "What was his name?"

Bryce eyed Sarah, but then just shrugged his shoulders. "Jerry Johnson."

The sensation of an approaching flash never changed. Chuck could feel the tingle run up his spine while his eyes lost focus and then slipped shut.

_An oak tree-an old Tom & Jerry cartoon-a personnel file-a photo of a thickset, prematurely-greying man-the words "adequate" and "acceptable" leaping out from a performance evaluation-a wedding photo-an oak tree_

"Jeremy Bryan Johnson," Chuck said, rattling off the details. "Ten years in the CIA, good but not distinguished service, married to Amy Johnson of Iowa City, Iowa."

His words hung in the air for a moment; Sarah wrote down what he had just said while Bryce gaped. Finally, Bryce found his voice. "What was-wait, that's how the Intersect works?"

"Yeah," Chuck said, looking at Bryce. "It's cued by auditory or visual triggers."

"It's that fast?" Bryce said, leaning forward.

"If there's information available, yeah." Chuck eyed Bryce, a bit surprised at this sign of life. But then, there weren't many people who got to see the Intersect in action. It was understandable that Bryce, who used to be as much of a nerd as Chuck, would be curious about it.

Sarah tapped her pen against the table. "So Agent Johnson approached you while you were both performing surveillance. Who was under surveillance?"

Bryce leaned back and started speaking. And Chuck felt another flash waiting for him.

XXX

After several hours of questioning and a lot more flashes, Chuck felt wrung out. But unfortunately, they still had to report to Director Graham. He splashed some cold water on his face and wolfed down a slice of pizza from the order they had called in an hour ago. Then he joined Sarah in front of the video screen. Bryce sat off to the side, out of view until they were ready to reveal his presence.

"You okay there, Chuck?" Bryce asked quietly.

He could see Sarah looking at him as he rubbed his temples. "Yeah, I'm okay." He stood up straight as Langston Graham, Deputy Director of the CIA, appeared on the video screen.

Without any regard for small talk, Graham said, "Report."

"Yes, sir," Sarah said briskly. "We investigated the office building in Tarzana but it was deserted and stripped clean. No evidence of Fulcrum's activities."

Graham frowned. "Another lead that didn't yield anything. Agents, I'm becoming concerned."

"We understand, sir, but we do have something positive to report," Chuck said. "Initial contact was made with Agent Larkin last week, and he is now in Los Angeles."

"He is?" Graham said, his deep voice gruff.

Chuck looked over at Bryce, who slowly rose from his chair and joined Chuck and Sarah in front of the video monitor. "Director Graham," Bryce said, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Agent Larkin." Graham sounded almost pleased at the sight of Bryce. "I expect you have much to tell us."

"I do, sir," Bryce said without elaborating further.

"Agent Bartowski and I have already questioned Agent Larkin and found his answers satisfactory. Of course, our report and the recordings of our conversation will be transmitted to you first thing tomorrow morning for your review," Sarah said smoothly.

"Hmmm," Graham muttered. "Agent Larkin, what motivated you to come out of hiding?"

"It was thanks to Agent Bartowski's olive branch," Bryce said, surprising Chuck. "Having an . . . an old friend approach me made me realize that it was time to find out what the CIA thought of my recent actions. What the Agency would do to me."

"And what is your expectation of what that might be, Larkin?"

Bryce shrugged. "Reinstatement and an assignment that's more interesting than spending a year in the Falklands. I have a lot of information about Fulcrum and I'm more than willing to use what I know to take them out."

"Agent Larkin has already been very forthcoming," Sarah commented.

"I'm eager to see just how open he has been," Graham said dryly. "Agent Larkin, I would like to speak to the other agents. Would you please withdraw?"

Without a word, Bryce turned and walked back towards the break room. Chuck resisted the urge to yell after him to not eat the rest of the pizza, although it was hard not to. One slice wasn't enough to ease the hunger that a lot of flashing caused.

Once Bryce was out of sight, Graham leaned back in his chair. "Do you think Agent Larkin's intelligence is actionable?"

Chuck looked at Sarah for a long moment, before turning back to face the deputy director. "We believe so, yes. He might be just what the Agency needs to truly eliminate Fulcrum."

"Then it stands to reason he should be working with you."

The simple suggestion nearly made Chuck's mouth drop open. "Excuse me, sir?"

"Adding Agent Larkin's first-hand knowledge to your work to undermine Fulcrum, plus the Intersect, seems like the right combination to me," Director Graham said. "Pending my review of your report, he will be reinstated and assigned to your team." He paused. "Although we will keep this quiet. It may be more effective if Agent Larkin is still considered a rogue agent."

That made sense, Chuck had to admit. Although . . . "His name will be cleared once Fulcrum is gone, though?"

Graham nodded. "Yes."

"For Agent Larkin's peace of mind, perhaps a 77C could be included in his file?" Sarah asked.

After all the flashes during the afternoon and evening, Chuck couldn't help a small grimace as another flash hit him. A 77C was a classified appendix to a spy's personnel file, one that indicated the agent had engaged in rogue or covert operations that might appear treasonous, but were in fact authorized by the CIA.

"I will take that under advisement, Agent Walker. Please inform Agent Larkin of this decision and bring him up to speed."

"Yes, sir," Chuck said, eager to end this briefing so he could collapse.

The director nodded and and the video screen went black, indicating that Graham had cut the video link. Chuck immediately sank down into a chair.

"Sorry, Chuck," Sarah said, reaching out to rub his temples. "I didn't realize you'd flash on the 77C."

"It's not in the CIA personnel rules, so I never came across it before," Chuck said, keeping his eyes closed.

"It's pretty obscure," she admitted. He felt Sarah sit on his knee as she continued stroking his temples, something they had discovered helped with flash-induced migraines.

"What do you think about Graham's idea?" she asked him softly. "Having Bryce work with us?"

"I think it's a good one," Chuck said, opening his eyes enough to see her. "He's got a lot of information on Fulcrum. A lot of contacts. Since I don't have the Fulcrum Intersect anymore, we're only as good as the intel we have. And what we've been getting before now hasn't been that good."

Sarah nodded. "I agree. I'm just worried."

"About what?" Chuck asked, squinting a little.

"You and Bryce," she said matter-of-factly. "Can you work together in spite of your history?"

"Well, Bryce doesn't want to talk about it, so what can I do?"

Her lips twisted. "Chuck, you're not going to take that lying down. You're going to push Bryce to open up."

Chuck considered her words. It was true: he had a hard time accepting Bryce's position. Why shouldn't they try and repair their friendship? Working with an old friend and his fiancée would be great, but only if Bryce was willing to be his friend again. And if Bryce wasn't interested in that, what would he do?

"What if I pushed in a nice way?" he said, giving Sarah a weak smile.

She gave him a look and Chuck sighed. "I know, I know. And you're right-I do want Bryce to talk to me. If only to smooth things over so we can work together," he said, cutting off the objection Sarah was about to make. "Because I can't handle working with someone who's all about the job."

"Then how'd you fall for me?" she said, grinning at him as she leaned in to kiss him lightly.

He was very grateful that her kiss prevented him from putting his foot in his mouth by replying. Because there was no way he could answer her without saying the wrong thing.

"I guess congratulations are in order?"

Bryce's voice made Sarah break the kiss and pull away a little. But she kept sitting on his knee. Chuck turned to look at Bryce, who was standing in the doorway, leaning against the door jamb with his arms folded over his chest. There was a small smirk on his face. "When's the wedding?"

"We haven't gotten that far in the planning-we've only been engaged a month," Sarah said lightly. "And thank you, Bryce."

"I thought you wanted to keep things professional?" Chuck asked, looking over at Bryce.

From the way his old friend stiffened slightly before straightening up, the smirk vanishing from his face, Chuck realized that he had just blown a chance to be friends with Bryce again. He felt like kicking himself.

"What did Graham have to say?" Bryce asked, his voice clipped.

Sarah stood up and Chuck followed her lead. "He wants you to work with Sarah and me," he said. "In a kind of undercover capacity, so that your Fulcrum contacts won't know that you're back in the fold."

Bryce huffed. "Of course. So at the end, the CIA can just toss me aside."

"Chuck raised that concern," Sarah said, eyeing Bryce. "Graham will put a 77C in your file. So once Fulcrum is done for, your name will be officially cleared."

"Is that so?" Bryce asked, looking at Chuck.

He nodded. "Yeah. Like I said, it's about trust."

For some reason, those simple words seemed to knock Bryce speechless. His eyes widened and he actually took a step back, before he recovered himself and slid his hands into his pockets. "Okay, then."

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Chuck asked. "There's a bed back in one of the holding cells. It sucks, but it'll give you someplace to sleep until you can find a place."

"No, I've got a room for a few nights," Bryce said, still sounding a bit dazed.

Sarah rested her hand on Chuck's shoulder. "It's pretty late. How about we all call it a night?"

"Sounds good," Chuck said, eyeing Bryce. "I'm gonna grab a slice for the road." He turned and kissed Sarah's cheek quickly. After all, the cat was out of the bag, and it wasn't like it was the first time Bryce saw him kiss a girl. Why not act normally with Sarah while Bryce was around?

"Okay," Sarah said. "I'll meet you at home." She looked at Bryce. "Need a lift anywhere?"

"No, I'm good," Bryce said shortly. "See you tomorrow." And with that, he walked down out of the conference room, presumably heading towards the exit.

Chuck waited until the door had closed behind Bryce before looking at Sarah. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"I don't see why," Sarah said practically, completely missing the _Star Wars_ reference. "It could have been a lot worse."

Looking back down the empty hallway, Chuck sighed a little. "Yeah . . . but it could have been a lot better, too."

End, Chapter 2


	4. Chapter 3

Sarah Walker would be the first to admit that she didn't always understand friendship. Having a partner, she got that. Feeling loyal towards Graham and trusting Chuck with her life and heart, certainly. But friendship was still a somewhat murky concept to her. She was friends with Ellie, yes, but she thought it was mostly because of their shared love of Chuck.

So she had a hard time figuring out just why her fiancé cared so much about Bryce Larkin.

It seemed clear that Bryce wasn't the same man that Chuck remembered. At least, that was what she observed. While Bryce kept things professional and focused on the job, Chuck was eager to take any opportunity to remind his old friend about their times at Stanford.

If she was a different kind of woman, she might resent Chuck's actions. Wonder if she wasn't enough for him. But she didn't. There were a lot of uncertain things in her world, but her trust in and love for Chuck wasn't one of them. And she knew he felt the same way about her.

But just because she wasn't resentful didn't mean she wasn't worried. Worried that Chuck might be getting his hopes up, only to be disappointed. And that was the last thing she wanted. So she would be keeping a close eye on the situation.

Glancing at her watch, Sarah began tidying up and organizing the files she had been working on. It was just past five, and they had their double date with Ellie and Devon. If she hurried, she might even have time for a quick shower before dinner.

Bryce walked into the room, holding a few manila folders. He nodded to her. "Agent Walker."

She returned his nod and replied, "Sarah's fine, you know."

With a shrug, Bryce handed over the folders. "What I can remember about the Fulcrum organizational structure. I'll have a visual representation by tomorrow morning."

Over the last few days, Sarah had noticed that Bryce was certainly trying to rebuild his reputation. He was usually the first to arrive and was the last to leave, long past Chuck and Sarah left according to the electronic key logs. His work was good quality; not prone to the leaps that Chuck had achieved in connecting the dots and getting an unexpected picture, but still very good.

Taking a quick look through the folders, she nodded. "There's a lot of information here. This is good."

"Just trying to earn my keep," he said, his voice light. "It'll make more sense when you have the flow charts and graphs that I need to put together."

"There's no hurry," Sarah said, standing up. "I won't be able to review this in full until tomorrow, because I need to get out of here."

He arched an eyebrow. "Got a hot date?"

"I do, in fact." Sarah paused, then smirked. "Chuck and I are having dinner with his sister and her husband."

"Ellie's married now?"

Sarah looked at Bryce, who looked a bit surprised. And . . . disappointed.

"Yes, her wedding was about six weeks ago. You know Ellie?"

Bryce shrugged and straightened up. "I met her a few times while Chuck and I were in college. Have a good time tonight."

"You, too, Bryce," Sarah said, giving him a small smile. "And . . ." She paused to gather her thoughts. "I know we don't really know each other, but could I give you a bit of advice?"

"I always take the advice of beautiful women," Bryce said, resting against the table.

His words were flirty, almost suggestive. She had heard similar lines for years, but there was something about his tone that made her think he was just playing the game. Acting like a typical spy. Perhaps as part of his rehabilitation effort?

She shook her head, chuckling softly. "All I was going to say is, you don't have to keep your nose to the grindstone. Okay? All work and no play, as they say."

Just like that, Bryce's expression became shuttered and he stood up. "Thanks for the advice."

"Sarah? Ready to go?"

Chuck's voice came into the room just before the rest of him, a smile on his face. He drew up short when he saw Bryce, then he nodded and smiled again. But this smile was different from the one he had been wearing when he walked into the room.

"Yeah, I'm ready," Sarah said, taking his hand.

"Okay, great," Chuck said. "Have a good night, Bryce. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Bryce said, turning his back on them and shuffling some folders.

She could see Chuck opening his mouth to say something. Maybe he was thinking of inviting Bryce along with them. But he closed his mouth when Sarah squeezed his hand. "Good night, Bryce," Sarah called out before gently tugging Chuck out of the office.

"Was I pushing again?" Chuck asked once they were walking towards his car.

"I just didn't want you to invite Bryce along tonight. It might be awkward."

Chuck grinned suddenly. "I definitely wouldn't do that. Bryce would be very uncomfortable. Downright awkward."

At her skeptical expression, Chuck's grin widened. "Bryce's always had a crush on Ellie. Of the tongue-tied, shy variety."

"What is it with your friends having crushes on Ellie?" Sarah asked, returning his grin. "First Morgan and now Bryce?"

"My sister is awesome," Chuck said simply.

"Yeah, I know," Sarah said, settling into the passenger seat. But even she could hear how muted her agreement was.

He looked over at her as he buckled his seatbelt. "You don't think so?"

"I think Ellie's great, of course," Sarah said. "She's just . . . very enthusiastic."

"She can be," Chuck agreed. "But her heart's in a good place." Starting the car and pulling out into traffic created a natural pause, then Chuck spoke hesitantly. "Was I? Pushing? With Bryce?"

Sarah reached over and rested her hand on his knee. "No . . . I know it's hard not to jump on any sign of Bryce feeling friendly, but I think you just have to let this develop at its own pace."

Chuck blew out a breath. "I know you're right. And I know that I'm obsessing about this, but with Morgan being so clingy lately and now Bryce being all distant . . . I'm confused."

"What's up with Morgan?" Sarah asked, surprised to hear Chuck complaining about his best friend.

He shrugged. "Dunno. He's just really possessive right now. Wanting my full, complete and undivided attention." Chuck blew out a breath. "He's gotten like this before and it's all blown over. Besides, I've got other things to worry about. Like how distant Bryce is being. I'd hate it if anyone we worked with acted like that. All closed-off and unfriendly, when we spend so much time together. I mean, Casey was grumpy and frustrating, but he was there, you know?"

"I remember," Sarah said, reflecting on how Casey had been when they had first arrived in Rome. "But Bryce has been working hard."

"Too hard," Chuck commented.

She nodded. "Yes. Which is why I told him to take it easy tonight." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I got through to him."

"It was nice of you to try," Chuck said, glancing over at her. "You barely know Bryce, after all."

"He's risking exhaustion and losing his edge," Sarah said. "And besides . . . he's kind of your friend, so I'd like to get to know him."

The brightness of Chuck's smile made her feel like she had said the perfect thing. The silence that fell between them was comfortable, one that let her begin to relax. She gently rubbed his knee as she looked out through the windshield. "With this traffic, I don't know if I'll have enough time for the shower I wanted."

"I wanted to shower, too," Chuck said. He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Wanna save time and water by showering together?"

"Would we really save that much of either?" Sarah asked, quirking her eyebrow at him.

Chuck laughed. "Probably not. I'll skip it." He lifted her hand from his knee and kissed her knuckles. "Ellie would have our heads if we're late."

"Yeah," Sarah said, leaning back against the seat and trying to recapture her relaxation. For some reason, she felt a bit nervous about this dinner. It was the first time they would be seeing Ellie for an extended amount of time since Chuck had proposed. Now that Ellie's own wedding was over, she was bound to be excited about her brother getting married-and would be full of questions and suggestions, ready to offer her help. And while Sarah could understand that, since Ellie and Chuck were so close and they had helped a lot with Ellie's wedding, she was worried that Ellie might try to push them to hurry up with the wedding plans.

But maybe she was worrying for nothing. Her thoughts were almost ungenerous, in fact. Ellie was a great person, she loved Chuck, and she had been a lot of help to Sarah over the last year, when Sarah and Chuck were going through their rough patch. She shouldn't be worrying like this.

So as Chuck pulled into the parking lot at their apartment, Sarah resolved to think more positively about tonight's dinner. Someday, Ellie would be her sister-in-law. There was no reason to think that Ellie would overwhelm her.

XXX

The brightness of Ellie Bartowski Woodcomb's smile was something to see. "Chuck, Sarah!" she squealed as she hugged first her brother, then Sarah. "Oh, it's so good to see you!"

"Hi, Ellie," Sarah said, putting on her most enthusiastic smile as she hugged Ellie back. "You look wonderful. You're still tan!"

"Hawaii was so amazing, all I wanted to do was be outside," Ellie said, smiling as Devon joined them. "Devon and I went biking, took a few hikes . . ."

"Although no luck on getting the new Mrs. Woodcomb white-water rafting. But next time, am I right?" Devon grinned and gave Chuck a hug before kissing Sarah's cheek.

"Yeah, sure, Devon," Ellie teased, leaning into his side. She turned and looked at Sarah. "Managing a husband isn't that much different to managing a boyfriend."

"Oh-I don't know that I manage Chuck . . ." Sarah said, having a sudden flashback to high school and her unpopular, unpretty self.

Chuck draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close to him. "And why would she? I'm an awesome boyfriend."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Devon said, lifting his hand for a high-five. "Up top, Chuckster!"

Ellie rolled her eyes and shot Sarah a look. "Yeah, sure, boys," Ellie said with a grin. "But Sarah and I know the truth."

Having Chuck so close, warm and supportive and giving her what she needed without even realizing it, made it easier to get into the conversation. To swap jokes and laugh and just not worry. So she gave Ellie a wink, which prompted laughter from the older woman.

"Are we ready for dinner?" Devon asked. "I've been craving tuna all day."

"Yeah, let's go," Sarah said, smiling up at Chuck.

Within ten minutes, they were seated and Devon had ordered some sake for all of them. "A toast: to the woman who was born a Bartowski and the one who's going to become a Bartowski."

Sarah felt her cheeks turn pink at the sweetness of the toast and from the warmth in Chuck's eyes as he gazed at her. Sometimes, waiting to be married to Chuck felt almost unbearable. The only thing that could make her put on the brakes was worrying about the wedding. Knowing that they had to deal with that first before they could get to what she was really excited about.

Why was being married to Chuck so much less scary than the wedding itself? Shouldn't she be a bit more excited for the big party and event? It was nice that they would get to have that, and she knew that Chuck was really looking forward to the wedding. But being the center of attention like that . . .

But they would both be the center of attention, Sarah reminded herself. Chuck would be right there with her, just like always. As a sign of their future. And if they were together, she wouldn't mind being watched and noticed. And besides, they would have the wedding they wanted. They would create the ceremony and the party that was perfect for them and that was something to get excited about.

Perhaps it was hard to get excited about the wedding because it was so uncertain when it might happen. With their decision to wait until after Fulcrum was really gone, that put their personal lives in a state of limbo. But it wasn't something they could tell Ellie, since Chuck was standing firm on keeping their real jobs from his family. So they had to find another reason to convince Ellie that they wanted to go slow. A good reason, because Ellie was bound to pick it to pieces.

It might be harder than surviving her interrogation class during her spy training, but she would find a way to convince Ellie to let them move at their own pace. Even if it meant she had to spell things out for her future sister-in-law, something that Sarah was a bit scared to do. But she'd try if for the wedding that she and Chuck wanted.

Once the toast had been drunk, Ellie turned to Sarah with a bright smile. "How are you doing, Sarah? Getting excited about the wedding?"

"I am . . . although honestly, I'm more excited about being married," Sarah admitted, feeling her already-pink cheeks grow hotter.

Ellie's smile softened into an expression of pride and contentment. "That's the way it should be. I'm so glad you see it that way."

Nearly sighing in relief, Sarah shrugged a little and smiled. "I'm not much for big parties or having all eyes on me. And Chuck and I wanted to take things slow and not rush, which is good."

"Slow is okay, although you two probably need to start nailing things down. A date, the size of the wedding, the venue . . ."

"We've been talking," Sarah said slowly. "But I'm not sure if we're ready to get everything that settled."

Chuck's sister made a face. "If you're excited to get married, why do you want to wait to have the wedding?"

"I don't know," Sarah said, trying to hold back her frustration. "Because it's a big step, because we want to do this right, because there's a lot to consider . . ." She let her voice trail off, feeling her breaths come a bit quicker and needing to just stop and calm down for a moment.

"Hey," Ellie said quietly, resting her hand over one of Sarah's, "it's okay."

She took a few deep breaths, realizing that Chuck and Devon had broken off their conversation to look at them. "Sarah?" Chuck asked softly, moving his hand to her back. "Are you okay, baby?"

They all looked so worried. Worried about her. And it felt good to have people who were concerned for her. But it was also a responsibility. She didn't want them to worry, so it was up to Sarah to talk and let them know she was okay. To let them know what she needed.

Giving Chuck a quick smile, she nodded. "I'm okay. Really. I just . . ." Sarah took another deep breath and turned to face Ellie. "I know how much you want us to be happy. And you've been so great to talk to, whenever I needed a friend. But I think this-our wedding-is something that we want to handle at our own speed. Without pressure." She nibbled on her lower lip, waiting for Ellie's reaction and hoping she hadn't said anything that Chuck disagreed with.

"We know it might not seem fair, since we basically put together your wedding," Chuck said. "And it's great to know we can ask you questions because you've been there before. But you need to go easy on us, El."

Ellie looked back and forth between Sarah and Chuck for a moment that felt endless. Then her worry shifted into something else. "You two are so perfect for each other," she said, reaching out and hugging them at the same time.

That wasn't the reaction that Sarah was expecting. And neither was Chuck, based on his surprised expression. "You're not mad?" Chuck gasped out.

"No!" Ellie said, pulling back. "I'm really proud of you guys, for actually talking to me about this! Instead of just letting it simmer and become resentment. Especially for you, Sarah, since you've said how hard it is sometimes for you to talk about your feelings." Ellie took Sarah's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"It is," Sarah said, trying not to act like a woman who had just gotten a death sentence overturned. "I just don't want you to be upset that we're not going faster-"

"There's nothing wrong with a long engagement," Ellie said. "It gives you more time to plan. Not to mention you two have really only known each other for, what, two years?"

"Less than that," Chuck said.

"Exactly," Ellie said. "Devon and I had been together, off and on, for three years before he even popped the question. And we knew each other a little before we got together."

"All of ten minutes," Devon said. "And then there was the supply closet."

Sarah bit her lower lip, but not from nerves. It was to hold back her laughter at the look on Chuck's face at the thought of his sister jumping into a closet with some guy, let alone right after meeting him.

"Devon!" Ellie said, jabbing her husband in the ribs. "Anyway," she continued, "Getting some more time to figure each other out is a good thing, too."

"That's kind of what we thought," Sarah said, giving Chuck more time to recover as she cobbled together phrases she had read in various women's magazines. "Take our time, enjoy this new stage in our relationship . . ."

Ellie smiled and nodded. "Exactly. Whenever you're ready to talk wedding, Devon and I are here for you both."

"I am a honeymoon expert," Devon said, grinning at Chuck. "Let me tell you, bro, about-"

As Devon drew Chuck into conversation about honeymoon spots, Sarah started quietly chatting with Ellie. She directed the conversation towards whether Ellie and Devon had talked about getting a house now that they were married. Listening to Ellie talk, it gave Sarah a different perspective on the discussions she had with Chuck about the same subject. Gave her some different insights.

This was what she was happy to have: someone like Ellie to talk to, especially when she could get answers to questions without Ellie realizing she was giving Sarah advice.

Gradually, their two separate conversations overlapped into Ellie and Devon talking about their honeymoon. Over their rolls and sashimi, Sarah found herself feeling better about the things that had been bothering her. Well, everything except work. That was a glaring issue: their recent lack of success against Fulcrum, the appearance of Bryce Larkin, and the questions about Bryce's loyalties.

They were just finishing up dessert when Sarah's phone rang. She frowned a little when the display didn't indicate the phone number of the caller. She answered hesitantly, turning away from everyone. "Hello?"

"It's Bryce. You and Chuck need to get back here right away."

From the surprise, she nearly said his name, choking it back just in time. "Br-Bruce? What's going on?"

"I've been researching some leads and there's some chatter that Fulcrum is doing something tonight. If we hurry, we can put them under surveillance, get on their tail."

Sarah nibbled on her lower lip, then nodded. "Okay. I'll be there soon." She hung up the phone and turned back to everyone, putting on a disappointed expression. "I'm sorry, but I have a work emergency. I've got to go."

"Is it that employee you were talking about earlier?" Chuck asked, looking at her.

Nodding, she replied, "Yeah, he's at a critical point."

Chuck immediately stood up. "I'll drive you to the office," he said, following along with the code they had set up for talking about unexpected spy missions in front of civilians. Chuck knew that this was a job for both of them based on her response to his question.

"Hey, Chuck, you wanna stay and hang out, we can drop you off at your place," Devon offered. "Saves you from waiting around for Sarah."

"Nah, but thanks, Devon." Chuck gave his brother-in-law a smile, then kissed Ellie's cheek. "I'll call you this weekend."

"Saturday's better-I'm working a double on Sunday," she said, hugging him quickly and then getting up to do the same to Sarah. "Call if there's anything I can help with," Ellie said as she hugged Sarah.

"I will," Sarah said, giving Ellie a smile. "And thanks. It was great seeing you both."

With their goodbyes finished, Sarah and Chuck walked out of the restaurant. Once they were out of sight of Ellie and Devon, they both picked up their pace. "Was that Bryce?" Chuck asked in a low voice.

"Yeah," Sarah said. "Fulcrum's running an op tonight and he thought we could put them under surveillance."

"Good idea," Chuck said. He glanced at her. "So he didn't take your advice about going home for the night, it looks like."

She sighed a little. "Yeah. He's got to get some down time. After being on the run for so long, and then working all the time, he's going to slip up. And I don't want any of us getting hurt when that happens, so it's better if he doesn't mess up in the first place."

"We'll deal with that tomorrow, after we get through tonight," Chuck promised.

As they got into Chuck's car and he pulled out into the early-evening traffic, she hoped they'd get that chance. If Bryce wouldn't make the mistake she was worrying about tonight.

XXX

Two were normally a tight but somewhat comfortable fit in the surveillance van. Three people, one of whom was six foot four, made it a lot less comfortable. And when two of the three were fighting, any notion of comfort went out the window.

Sarah pressed her headset to her ear, trying to hear the conversation being picked up by the bug they had planted earlier. Although Bryce and Chuck were keeping their argument quiet, it was still difficult to focus on the surveillance instead of their bickering.

"I'm just saying that if one of us went in, we could make some identifications. Learn more about who we should be tracking," Bryce said.

"It's too risky, Bryce."

"What's the matter, scared, Bartowski?" Bryce snorted. "You always were a wimp."

Chuck's face clouded. "It's not being a wimp to say something's risky."

"We're spies," Bryce said. "It's all about risk."

"You've got to calculate it, though," Chuck said. "This isn't like going up to Natalie Gregory at a frat party or doing a double layout on the trampoline. You won't blow out a knee or get your face slapped going in that building. It'd be a lot worse."

"You keep bringing up ancient history, Chuck," Bryce said, turning to look at the monitors. "Let it go."

"I won't. Not until you're willing to talk about what happened back at Stanford. Not until you explain why you dropped me like your freshman econ class."

She really wished that Chuck was sitting next to her. That way, she could give him a nudge in the ribs, as a silent signal to back off. That getting into his shared past with Bryce right now was a bad idea. Not only was it distracting all of them from the mission, it was just the wrong time.

It seemed like years of resentments and history were coming into play in this argument. And Sarah wasn't sure how she could intervene and get them focused on their jobs. Well, that wasn't accurate. She could get them back on track, but she knew how much Chuck wanted to deal with these issues. And she wasn't sure she wanted to interfere with this.

Taking a deep breath, she moved as far away from them as possible and kept listening to the conversation over her headphones. Thanks to the Fulcrum contacts he still had, Bryce had tracked down a small cell operating in the Los Angeles suburbs. They were holding a meeting tonight to prep their next mission, to raid an electronics store for supplies. Sarah had gone into the small Chinese restaurant earlier and planted a few bugs before joining Chuck and Bryce in the van to listen in on the cell's conversation.

The fact that Fulcrum was reduced to stealing computers and cell phones should make her happy. It was a sign that the CIA was really closing down the terrorist group. But instead of being happy, she just felt . . .frustrated. Fulcrum kept finding new signs of life. She wanted them eliminated, dead, buried. Not just because it would mean she and Chuck could get married, but because she was ready for a new challenge. Ready to get out of the morass of long-term assignments and work some short and simple missions, to have some quick successes.

If they could do that, they wouldn't even need a honeymoon. They'd get to travel the world on the CIA's dime.

Suddenly, her headphones crackled. "Let's review the number of units," a male voice said.

Sarah waved her arm at Chuck and Bryce, getting their attention before signaling for them to be quiet. She yanked the headphones out of the jack in the panel and the conversation came through on the speakers, sounding tinny and slightly distorted.

"So this is what we've come to?" another man said, sounding disgruntled.

"Ever since we lost Roark Instruments, it is," a woman sniped. "You know that as well as I do. Stop dwelling on the blow to your ego and focus on what we need to keep going."

"Isn't that the question, though?" the first man asked. "Should we keep going?"

Bryce leaned over and took the pad of paper resting in front of Sarah. He quickly scribbled something on it, then passed it back to her.

_1st man is Marvin Gonzalez. Woman is Helen Johnson. Don't know 2nd man._

She tore off the sheet and passed it to Chuck, who looked at the names and took a deep breath. After over a year, she could tell when he was having a flash, getting information fed to him by the Intersect. When it finished, he looked at her and nodded. "They're Fulcrum," he whispered.

"Of course they're Fulcrum," Bryce hissed. "What, did you think I was so desperate for friends that I orchestrated this whole mission just to spend time with you?"

"Quiet!" Sarah snapped. She kept hearing odd pops and crackles in the conversation, and they were niggling at her. Reaching forward, she adjusted a few dials, trying to make the sound clearer.

"I told you we should have planted video," Bryce said.

"There weren't any cameras in the place to piggyback off of," Chuck snapped, looking at the other man. "You know that."

"We could have used a video recorder and retrieved it later."

"Yeah, because that wouldn't have looked obvious." Chuck's voice was full of frustration and annoyance and Sarah guessed that he was reaching the end of his rope.

"That's enough!" she said, turning to glare at them. "We're getting nowhere with all this. Bryce, come with me. We'll go in as a couple having dinner, which will let us scope out the place. Chuck, you monitor the bugs and the video while backing us up." She stood up and opened up a compartment, pulling out earwigs for herself and Bryce as well as a pair of glasses with a built-in video camera.

"Fine," Bryce said, leveling Chuck with a look full of superiority. "Dinner with a lovely woman works for me."

Sarah made a face and handed him an earwig and the video glasses before looking at Chuck, who now looked slightly worried. "Sarah? You sure about this?" he asked quietly.

"It's either me and Bryce or me and you, and it makes more sense for Bryce to go in," Sarah said. "He can identify them."

"But-but you and Bryce-"

"Chuck and I could go in as a couple," Bryce volunteered, the video glasses in place and now wearing a baseball cap pulled down over his hair-probably as a disguise.

She rolled her eyes before looking at Chuck. "I need to know I have someone I trust watching my back," she said softly, holding his gaze. Trying to tell him that everything would be fine. That she didn't trust Bryce yet and wouldn't let him run the surveillance when she still wasn't sure about him. But she had no doubts about Chuck. She knew he would keep her safe, even if it had to be from afar.

After a moment, Chuck's shoulders relaxed and he nodded. "Okay. Be careful, both of you."

"Of course," Sarah said, quickly kissing his cheek and then following Bryce out of the van. They walked towards the restaurant, Bryce taking the time to get the video glasses set up with Chuck in the van. He paused just outside the restaurant.

"Ready to go?" he asked, eyeing her as he held his hand out to her.

"Yes," she said, sliding her hand into his. She held back a wince at the wrongness of holding someone else's hand. Chuck's hand was warm and knew the exact right amount of pressure to exert, while Bryce's fingers were too cool and too loose around her own.

He held the door open for her and followed her inside the restaurant. As they waited to be seated, both of them looked around casually, using their idle gazes to take in the room. It was a fairly typical Chinese place: red walls, black lacquer tables and chairs, piped-in music that heavily featured flutes and drums. There were a few screens set up in various places, concealing tables from their sight.

There was nothing overly suspicious yet . . . but there wasn't a woman and two men at any the tables. Sarah glanced at Bryce.

"Think they might be in the back room?" she whispered, her lips barely moving.

"Could be," he replied, letting go of her hand and resting his on her back. A little lower than she'd like, but she couldn't give him a look and make him move his hand.

The bugs she had planted were a new design, just received from the CIA and endorsed by Bryce. Instead of bugging each table, there were only a handful scattered through the room to record all the conversations. They were a sophisticated type that used special software to filter the various conversations so they wouldn't overlap for the eavesdroppers. The idea was that there would be less chance of accidental detection due to feedback. But in the small private dining room, Sarah had used a traditional bug. She wondered if the crackles she had heard in the surveillance van came from some conflict between the old and new bugs.

The hostess led them to the perfect table: near the back, off to the side and not far from the corridor that contained both the bathrooms and the door into the back room. Neither of them would have to put their backs to the door, even. As they sat down and took their menus, Sarah mentally created a plan.

She played with her hair, her watch close to her mouth. "Chuck? Are they still talking?"

"Yep," he said quietly over their comms. "They're fighting over which store to hit. Talking about their priorities."

"They're taking their time," Bryce commented. "Gives us more flexibility."

Sarah nodded, looking at him. This was the first time in a long time she had worked in the field with someone who wasn't Chuck, so she found herself defaulting to standard CIA techniques. Not only would it save time and protect appearances for the civilians in the restaurant, but it gave her a sense of how Bryce worked for herself. "I thought we could do a variation on Sorority Girl and Jealous Boyfriend."

"I was thinking Drunk Guy," Bryce said, his eyes running over his menu.

"Without backup and with no clearly-defined secondary exit available? No way."

"What are you talking about?" Chuck asked.

"Did someone sleep through the first day of spy school?" Bryce sniped. "Oh, wait, you got 'fast tracked'."

The venom in Bryce's voice took Sarah by surprise. Thanks to the high-quality equipment, she could hear Chuck's intake of breath as Bryce's comment cut to the quick. Before Chuck could reply, Sarah cut in. "We'll run Sorority Girl and Jealous Boyfriend."

She turned to flag down the waitress. When the young woman walked over, Sarah put on the air of a college co-ed as she asked for a very strong mai-tai. The waitress smiled regretfully. "I'm sorry, we lost our liquor license last week. Would some complimentary tea be all right?"

It was all she could do not to groan. Without liquor, neither her plan nor Bryce's would work, because they both relied on the lack of attention paid to drunk people.

With a shrug, Sarah accepted the waitress's offer and then turned to Bryce. "Now what?" she said once the waitress was out of earshot.

"We could do just Jealous Boyfriend," Bryce said. He snapped his fingers. "You be Angry Girlfriend."

"We barely know each other," Sarah said, glancing around the room. "You think we could sell it?"

Bryce shrugged. "Pretend I'm Chuck. I watched enough fights with him and Jill to know how to do this."

Jill? Who the hell was-oh. Right. Chuck's college girlfriend. The one who had broke up with him just before that spring break trip to Mexico where she had met Chuck.

"Bryce!" Chuck's voice was annoyed. Even angry, she would say, and Chuck didn't get angry easily. "What the hell?"

"Oh, have you not told your fiancée all about the girl who broke your heart because she admitted to being in love with me?"

Sarah's mouth fell open as she stared at Bryce. She knew that Chuck would be able to see her through the video feed, she knew that they should be worrying about Fulcrum, but at this moment she was too busy reeling from this bombshell. Although Chuck had mentioned Jill occasionally, he'd never talked about why they had broken up, other than to say that it had been her decision. But was the breakup one of the reasons Chuck was so desperate to reconnect with Bryce? To find out if Bryce knew about Jill's interest-or even reciprocated it? Where did that leave Chuck and how did that impact his feelings for her?

"I can't believe you just said that," Chuck said, hurt in his voice. Hurt and sadness and confusion.

Swallowing, Sarah tried to regroup. "Chuck, Bryce, you can talk about this later. And believe me, you will. But for now, we have to get eyes on the Fulcrum agents in the back room. Chuck, what are they saying now?"

"They're . . ." When he didn't say anything further, Sarah frowned.

"Crap," Bryce said, standing up quickly. "We have to get in there." He pulled Sarah out of her chair and practically dragged her down the hall. He pressed her hard against the door that went into the back room and Sarah glared at him. She knew what he was doing, and she didn't like it.

"Don't you dare kiss me," she hissed quietly, turning her head so Bryce could nuzzle her neck.

"WHAT?"

Ignoring Chuck's yelp over the comms, Sarah reached behind her for the doorknob and opened the door. She stumbled back into the room with a giggle that probably wasn't too convincing, Bryce following her. But his choice of Affectionate Lovers, without running it by her first and on top of his revelation about Jill, left Sarah with too many conflicting thoughts in her head.

But it was all pointless, because the room was dark. Bryce pulled away quickly and looked for a light switch. When he hit it, the room flooded with light to reveal . . . nothing. An empty table with a few half-drunk glasses of tea, chairs pushed back from the table and one even overturned.

It all added up to one thing.

"They knew someone was listening," Chuck said hoarsely.

"Or they found out and hit the road. Without our surveillance spotting it," Bryce said, his voice icy.

"There was no video! You can't blame me for this," Chuck said, the anger reappearing in his voice. "This isn't my fault."

"Yeah, sure, Chuck-it never is."

"Enough! Chuck, we're coming back." Sarah grabbed Bryce's arm and yanked him out of the room, pulling him towards the exit to the restaurant.

They had screwed up. Badly. And it all came down to Bryce and Chuck. The two of them hadn't been focused on the mission and it had cost them. She was embarrassed, disappointed, but more than that, she was furious. It was time for this to end.

Although she had been counseling Chuck to be patient and approach Bryce slowly, clearly that was the wrong way to go. If this was how they would interact on an easy surveillance job, what would happen when their lives were on the line? She couldn't lose Chuck, and she knew he wouldn't want Bryce or herself to be hurt, either. So if this was what it took to get them past all the drama and history between them, so be it. Even if it made her feel like a shrew to do it. Although acting this way let her push aside her fear and worry. About Chuck, about their jobs, about everything.

When they got to the van, she yanked open the door. "Get inside!" she snapped at Bryce, who gratifyingly didn't ask questions, just climbed in.

Getting behind the wheel of the van, Sarah peeled out of the parking lot, heading back towards the office. Chuck and Bryce were going to talk about their past and find a way to work together. Even if it killed them.

End, Chapter 3


	5. Chapter 4

It wasn't often that Sarah got angry. Really angry, like Incredible Hulk angry. And just like Bruce Banner, you wouldn't like Sarah Walker when she was angry.

This was one of those times. Her eyes were snapping and her jaw was tight. He almost expected to see electricity crackling around her head. As she drove the van back to the office, he could see the tension in her shoulders, could tell that she was barely holding back from ripping into him and Bryce.

And it would be entirely deserved, he knew. It was their fault that the Fulcrum agents slipped the surveillance, that they weren't able to identify the second man or even confirm Bryce's ID of the other two agents, that they hadn't even been able to find out where the terrorists would be going next. And now they had nothing to go on. They couldn't very well stake out all the electronics stores in the greater LA area.

Bryce slumped in the seat next to his, his expression stubborn and closed-off. "I can't believe you lost them," he said quietly to Chuck.

"Me? How about you trying to mack on my fiancée?" Because Chuck had noticed that. Combined with Bryce's big reveal of why Jill had dumped him, Chuck wasn't feeling very charitable towards Bryce right now. And he certainly wasn't going to take the blame for the mission going south when it was just as much Bryce's fault as his.

"Quiet!" Sarah snapped from the front of the van. "No talking until I say you can."

If it was possible, Bryce looked even more stubborn. He opened his mouth to say something, but Chuck knew this would end very, very badly. So he quickly clamped a hand over Bryce's mouth and shook his head at him.

Chuck had forgotten how much like a mule Bryce could be. He looked like he was ready to keep arguing over this, but after a few moments of glaring, Bryce finally nodded. Chuck took his hand away, seeing a muscle jump in Bryce's jaw but now satisfied that the other man wasn't going to do anything to draw Sarah's attention when she was angry and driving.

The rest of the drive was silent. But it was a heavy, angry silence, one that made Chuck itch from the tension. He wasn't looking forward to being read the riot act by Sarah. And especially not when all he wanted was to explain what had happened when Jill had broken up with him. An explanation that he'd put off making to Sarah because it was pretty embarrassing.

Sarah drove the van into the garage of the office building, sliding smoothly and at high speed into a parking space. Then she turned and looked at them, clearly still angry. "Out."

With a nod, Chuck scrambled out of the van, followed by Bryce. The three of them walked to the nearest stairwell and climbed to the third floor. The whole way, Chuck kept darting glances at Sarah, trying to figure out what she was going to do. Trying to figure out how to fix things so this wouldn't happen again.

Flinging open the stairwell door with a loud thud, Sarah didn't flinch at the noise. Instead, she led them down the hallway until they arrived at the interrogation room. She opened the door and gestured for both of them to go in.

Chuck went for the door, only to stop as Bryce moved at the same time. He stepped back so Bryce could go in, only for Bryce to do the same thing.

Sarah sighed heavily. "Chuck, go in first."

"Yes, Sarah," he said, quickly moving into the room. Bryce stepped in after him, and as one they turned to face Sarah. She stood in the doorway, her arms folded over her chest.

"Right," she said quietly, steel in her voice. "The two of you are going to resolve the issues from your past. Chuck's recruitment, the Jill thing, everything. Because we can't have another mission like tonight. Understood?"

"Yes, Sarah," Chuck repeated, stepping towards her. "I'm really sorry about what happened-"

"We can talk later, Chuck," Sarah said. "First, you and Bryce have to deal with this." She looked back and forth between the two of them, then turned and walked away, closing the door behind her.

He looked back at Bryce, who was opening his mouth to say something, when they both heard a soft click.

Bryce stalked over and jiggled the doorknob. "She locked us in!" He glared at the door, then at Chuck. "Great girl you've got for yourself, Chuck. Does she like it when you say 'Yes, Sarah' and 'No, Sarah' and 'Anything you say, Sarah'?"

"Look, leave her out of this," Chuck said, rubbing a hand over his face. "She's right and we both know it. We need to get things hashed out."

"It would have been fine if you had done your job," Bryce said, flopping down in one of the desk chairs set around the table in the middle of the room. "But Chuck's always so distracted. Off in his own world!"

Leaning back against the wall, Chuck slid his hands into his pockets and regarded his old friend. Slumped in a chair, his hair long and messy and his face drawn, Bryce looked exhausted. This was probably the wrong time to get into this with him. This was why Bryce could never pull all-nighters in college: when he got tired, he got sulky and stupid. But on the other hand, he was tired enough to be truthful. To not hold back on how he felt.

And after all, it wasn't like they had much of a choice.

Sighing, Chuck walked over and pulled out the chair across from Bryce's, lowering himself into the chair and stretching his legs out. "When did you get recruited?" Chuck asked quietly.

Bryce eyed Chuck and then sighed, some of the fight draining out of him. He leaned forward, folding his arms on the tabletop. "It was the end of sophomore year. After a track meet. I was sweaty and pissed off because I came in second to some jerk from UC-Berkeley who did nothing but trash-talk the whole meet." Bryce paused and blew out a breath.

"And . . . someone approached you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Older guy, wearing a polo shirt and glasses. George Fleming."

"Of course," Chuck said, feeling a piece of the puzzle fall into place. "It seems like he was the head recruiter at Stanford."

"I guess," Bryce said. "We did some small talk, then he asked if I had picked my courses for the fall semester. He encouraged me to take his psych class, the one with all the subliminal images. It fit my schedule and it worked for my major, so I agreed. I didn't really think anything of it, until-"

"He called you in and told you that the CIA was interested in you?"

"Got it in one, Chuck," Bryce said, running his fingers through his hair. "And honestly . . . he didn't have to ask me twice. Joining the CIA and being a spy? That was so much better than going back to Connecticut after graduation and working for the same insurance company as my father."

Chuck looked at the table, searching his memories of that time. Wondering if Bryce had given any indication that he had decided against the path his parents wanted for him. But he couldn't think of anything. Bryce had gotten a bit more serious about his classes around then, he thought, but then, at the start of junior year a lot of people buckled down.

"Since I was already in shape from gymnastics and track, Professor Fleming had me start learning martial arts. Although I was registered for normal classes, I was actually in training with a few other recruits. Then, that summer-"

"Wait, don't tell me. You weren't really interning at Ernst & Young." Chuck tried to grin, wanting to appear okay with all this. But honestly, he wasn't. As soon as he got recruited, he told Bryce. Even though it was probably against all the rules, he had needed to share with someone the huge change he was making in his life. He couldn't tell Ellie or Morgan, but he thought he could trust Bryce.

Clearly, his friend hadn't thought so. Because Bryce hadn't trusted him.

But right now, this wasn't about him. It was about Bryce, explaining himself. So Chuck pushed his feelings down and kept listening.

"No . . . I went to the Farm," Bryce said, referring to Camp Peary in Virginia, where CIA recruits were put through their paces. "Summer in Virginia. I thought I was going to die."

"Me, too," Chuck said, giving in to his instincts and grinning. Bryce gave him a tight smile back.

"Yeah. So I came back to Stanford for senior year and I got sent on a few assignments. Nothing top-priority, but . . . but I thought I was moving up the ladder, you know?" Bryce paused and rubbed his thumb against the tabletop. "And then . . . I was encouraged to get you to Mexico over spring break."

Now they were getting to the heart of the matter. Chuck leaned forward. "Did you know I was being recruited?"

"Not then. Not until you came back talking about the amazing girl you had met our first night."

Chuck frowned. That was when he had met Sarah-she had been evaluating him for Project Omaha. He knew that. But it didn't make sense how Chuck talking about meeting a woman would make Bryce realize what was going on.

Bryce must have picked up on Chuck's confusion. "I got contacted two days later, asking me if you had seen her again. When I said no, they told me that the original mission brief was for the woman-who was evaluating you-to spend more than one night with you. So . . . so they asked me to continue screening you."

"Wow," Chuck said. "I mean . . . it was Sarah, you know. She was the one doing the evaluation. But I had no idea you were-wait, what did you say about me?"

"Then? I didn't really say much of anything. I told them what they wanted to hear." He wasn't looking at Chuck. His eyes were glued on his hands, which were folded in front of him and very, very still. That made Chuck worry.

He weighed Bryce's words. "Then? So . . . so you said something different later?"

Instead of replying, Bryce got up and began pacing around the room. He was suddenly jittery, full of energy. Chuck watched as Bryce paced, feeling his own nerves increase exponentially. Finally, he couldn't bear it any longer. "Just tell me, Bryce."

"You sure you want to know, Chuck?" Bryce asked, turning to face him. "We could just sweep this under the rug."

"If we do that, there's no chance we could ever be friends again. And I'd like to be your friend, Bryce. We . . . we had a lot of good times," Chuck said, standing up and moving closer towards him. "Playing gotcha in the library . . . talking about girls . . . studying. We could do all those things now, you know, because we're spies. You and me, we're spies! How cool is that? I never would have thought I'd be here, but who better to do this with than one of my best friends?" He looked at Bryce, knowing he wasn't acting at all cool, but not caring. Not if it helped them get past this so they really could be friends again.

Bryce looked at him for a long moment. Then his shoulders slumped. "I went to Fleming and told him that I . . . that I wanted to frame you for cheating. Which would get you kicked out of Stanford and removed from consideration by the Agency."

Of all the things that Bryce could have told him, that was not something he had considered. Chuck stared at him, not really able to process this.

"I had it all worked out," Bryce continued. "Fleming's exam under your bed, blowing the whistle on you, and there you go. You'd be safe."

Chuck licked his lips. "Safe?" he asked slowly, still reeling.

"Yeah, safe!" Bryce stepped forward. "You're the last person who should have been recruited. You're too good for this kind of life, Chuck. I knew you were getting considered for Omaha-that it was a project with military implications. That you'd learn how to kill and make choices that you shouldn't have to make. So I-I tried to get you kicked out."

There wasn't a single word that could adequately describe what Chuck was feeling at this moment. And he couldn't figure out what he was feeling, because his emotions were swamping his logic. He fought to keep his breathing steady, to not pant with the anger and frustration and confusion that was boiling inside him.

"It was stupid," Bryce admitted. "But I didn't want you to go through what I was going through. Because I could handle it. I didn't think you could."

"What the hell, Bryce?" Chuck balled his hands into fists, trying not to lose control. "Who are you to be making decisions for me like that?"

"I was trying to help. I was trying to be a good friend." Bryce took a step back, holding his hands up. "C'mon, Chuck, it was a long time ago."

"It was two years ago," Chuck said through gritted teeth.

"And who's in the better place right now?" Bryce said, his jaw clenching. "You're the Intersect, leading your own team and working with one of the best spies in the Agency-one that you're engaged to, by the way, and who's hotter than any woman I've ever seen. And then there's me."

"Are you trying to make this about you?"

"No," Bryce said in annoyance. "But I'm just saying, I'm the one who's worked crappy missions and been totally sidelined ever since I tried to help you. So maybe you should stop being all hung up on something that still worked out pretty great for you."

Chuck nearly groaned in frustration. Bryce was dodging his responsibility, dodging the consequences, just because his actions had backfired. It put him in an impossible situation: either be "the better man" and let it go, or make Bryce see the error of his ways and hope for the best.

Somehow, he wasn't feeling very hopeful. He didn't think Bryce was ready to face his past behavior. So maybe it would be better to just reach some kind of detente with him, find a way to put aside the personal when they were working. Really, that was all they had to do. Even though he really had wanted to restore his friendship with Bryce, this would have to do.

Running a hand through his hair, he sat down on the table. "Okay. So how are we going to work together?"

Bryce slid his hands into his pockets. "I guess . . . we just focus on the mission?"

That solution was both remarkably short on details and too similar to the approach that had gotten them here, but what else could they do? Chuck shrugged. "If that's what you want."

"Yeah, I do. You think you can handle it?"

It was all he could do not to snap out an angry response and start the fight all over again. But it was late, he was tired, and he really just wanted to go home and hold Sarah. That is, if she would let him. So Chuck just nodded. "I can if you can."

"Okay, then," Bryce said, pushing off from the wall and going over to the intercom by the door. He seemed somewhat relieved, like he was glad this was over.

But Chuck didn't think this was over. Not yet.

XXX

Over the next week, the team tried to move on and regain some momentum in the fight against Fulcrum. Losing track of the three Fulcrum operatives was a setback, one that they were all determined to fix. Sarah and Chuck began working as much as Bryce had; Chuck knew things had gotten serious because Sarah hadn't voiced any concern about working too much.

After getting reamed by Graham for losing track of the Fulcrum agents, Chuck felt added pressure to produce something, anything. But it was Bryce who came through.

Four days after the botched surveillance, Bryce came into the office early in the morning. He dropped a file folder on the table in front of Chuck and Sarah and dropped down into a chair, yawning widely.

"What's this?" Chuck asked, flipping open the folder. There were a few emails and a fuzzy black-and-white picture, probably taken from some kind of surveillance camera, of a young man carrying a backpack. His furtive expression could be discerned even in the low-resolution image.

"That's Manoosh Depak. Has a master's in biology and was getting a Ph.D in computer engineering from MIT when he cracked up and dropped out." Bryce rubbed a hand over his face and shook his head before continuing. "He came back to Los Angeles and began spreading the word online that he had some kind of amazing new research that he was willing to share with the highest bidder."

"Let me guess: Fulcrum?" Sarah asked, looking up from the emails.

"Got it in one, Agent Walker," Bryce said, yawning again. "Don't really know what he's working on, but Fulcrum's been paying him a couple of grand a day-money that Fulcrum doesn't really have-to keep working on whatever it is."

"Hmmm," Chuck said. "I think I need to pay a visit to Manoosh's computer."

Bryce sat up in his chair. "You think you can hack your way into his computer?"

The lack of faith, given that Bryce knew how good Chuck was at hacking, was annoying. But like he had so many times in the last few days, Chuck bit his tongue and simply nodded.

"Okay," Bryce said, doubt still evident in his voice. "You'll probably need some kind of distraction. Something to keep Manoosh from noticing what's going on with his work."

"What's your idea?" Chuck said, eyeing Bryce.

The other man just nodded to Sarah. "This seems right up your alley."

"Why, because I'm a woman?" Sarah asked, her voice icy. "Nice to see that female agents are only good for seduction in your book, Agent Larkin."

Chuck swallowed. If his relationship with Bryce had descended into a cold war of sorts, Bryce and Sarah were like the United States and the Soviet Union during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Sarah seemed more upset about Bryce's attempted betrayal of Chuck at Stanford than Chuck was. Or at least, Sarah showed her reaction more than he did. Mostly because Sarah seemed to know how she felt, unlike Chuck. Either way, it was a state of barely-concealed war between Sarah and Bryce, and Chuck had found himself having to play peacemaker quite a lot lately.

"It's a good idea, but sending in Sarah to seduce Manoosh seems like overkill at this point," Chuck said, trying to sound casual. "This guy seems pretty lonely-maybe he just wants a friend. A guy who's charming, easy-going, yet still interested in all kinds of nerdy pastimes . . ."

Sarah quirked an eyebrow, looking at Bryce. "You're a nerd?"

"Not anymore . . ." Bryce said, looking unsettled.

"You can spend the next few days getting caught up before you approach Manoosh," Chuck said. "I'd need that much time to figure out what sort of security procedures he has in place on his computer."

It seemed that only his exhaustion kept Bryce from freaking out. Chuck wasn't very surprised that Bryce didn't consider himself a nerd anymore. Even at Stanford, he had noticed Bryce losing interest in comics and sci-fi movies. And over the last two years, Bryce would probably have difficulty getting access to anything nerdy, thanks to his spy work. Now he certainly seemed all spy.

And that fact made Chuck a bit sad for Bryce. Because what was the point of being better than James Bond if you didn't have something fun to do in your off-hours? Something that kept you in touch with your roots?

Bryce stood up. "I'm beat. I'm going to get a few hours of sleep before I get started."

"Good thinking," Chuck said, turning towards his computer to start running searches on Manoosh Depak. "You and Sarah can start figuring out how to approach Manoosh once you're ready to go."

Neither Bryce or Sarah would let the other one know how they felt about having to work together, so Bryce left the room silently. Once he was gone, he felt Sarah's hand on his shoulder.

"You're okay with me working with Bryce?"

He turned in his chair to look up at her. "Honestly? Not really, because it could be . . . explosive. But there doesn't seem to be another option."

Sarah sighed. "He just rubs me the wrong way. He's trying so hard to be the perfect spy that I keep analyzing everything he says and does, because I keep thinking he's going to double-cross me-and you."

Taking her hand, Chuck tugged Sarah down onto his knee. "I know, baby," he said softly, stroking her back. "But can you please ease up?"

She ran her hand through his hair. "Okay. For you."

Chuck gave her a small smile. "Thank you."

"Ever since you told me the whole story of what Bryce did at Stanford, I just have a hard time looking at him without wanting to punch him, right in the mouth," Sarah admitted, sounding sheepish.

"The fact that you haven't yet makes me less worried about you working with Bryce," Chuck quipped before turning serious. "Like he said, he's the one who got hurt by trying to get me off the CIA's radar. Am I cool with what he did? No. But I just . . . I can't see myself just adding to his problems."

"Because you are wonderful," Sarah said, kissing his temple softly. "And you also have a computer to hack." She lifted herself off his lap and went over to one of the other computers.

"You don't need to leave for me to get to work."

"Oh, I think I do," Sarah said, arching one of her eyebrows before grinning at him. "Get to work, Bartowski."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, returning her grin and turning back around. As he did, his eye caught a flicker of motion. Chuck turned his head, just in time to see Bryce pass the door on his way down the hall.

Had Bryce been watching them? If so, why? Was it just scoping out the other members of his team . . . or could it be for another reason, like jealousy or longing?

Shaking his head, Chuck made himself focus on the computer in front of him. There was work to be done and that's what he should be focused on, not Bryce. Sliding his desk chair over towards his messenger bag and pulling out the iPod that Sarah had given him for Christmas, Chuck then settled his headphones over his ears and got to work.

Yet he still found himself considering Bryce and hoping that this mission might help him. Might show him that he didn't have to be James Bond to be a good spy, someone with no personal life or friends.

And when the opening notes to the James Bond theme blared through his headphones, Chuck couldn't help grinning to himself. Looked like the universe was giving him a sign to keep the faith. So he cracked his fingers and started to dig deep through the layers of security that Manoosh had placed around his computer.

XXX

Chuck Bartowski had never started a fight in all of his twenty-three years. He'd always been the one to try and keep a fight from starting. When he had started his training at Project Omaha, it had taken a lot of time for him to get over his reluctance to use force, to actually punch someone instead of using defense. Even now, he used tranq guns more than real ones.

None of that mattered when compared to just how much he wanted to pound in Bryce Larkin's face.

The plan for tonight's mission was for Chuck to access Manoosh's computer while Bryce kept him distracted. Sarah would back up Bryce and coordinate with Chuck. It was a good plan. Simple, with few moving parts. He felt confident. Bryce and Sarah had already approached Manoosh and started the ball rolling; tonight would be about really forming the "friendship."

But what they hadn't planned on was Bryce totally failing on his end. Chuck had tried to stay hands-off over the last three days. He had more than enough work to do, cracking Manoosh's security, to be checking up on Bryce. He knew what he should do and Chuck thought he'd do it.

Sarah had realized quickly that Bryce was floundering. She had contacted Chuck and set up a link, so that Chuck could feed Bryce lines. Given that he was trying to hack a personal computer and not an enterprise server, he was able to do both, but he couldn't believe that Bryce hadn't done his job. It should have been easy! Chuck had even brought in a few comics and DVDs to help Bryce. What had he been doing the last three days?

As the hours went on and his concentration frayed, Chuck found his anger growing exponentially. Even with Chuck's help, Bryce had stumbled so much that Sarah had to go in and keep Manoosh there by flirting with him. Once Chuck had sent word that he had accessed the computer and gotten the information they needed, Bryce and Sarah had tranqed Manoosh and taken him back to his apartment.

And Chuck had been waiting for them to return so he could tell Bryce Richard Larkin just what he thought of him. He was done biting his tongue, done holding back. It was time for Bryce to pay the piper. And Chuck was the one playing the pipes.

The sound of a door opening drew him out of contemplating just how weird that metaphor was. Turning around, he saw Sarah walking in alone, looking a bit harried.

"Where's Bryce?" Chuck asked, approaching her. "I am done. We are dealing with everything now."

Sarah held up a hand. "I'm not going to stop you, Chuck. Just remember, we've still got a job to do. Don't hurt each other too much."

Chuck frowned and repeated his question. "Where is he?"

"In the gym," Sarah said. She looked slightly nervous and Chuck made himself tamp down his anger for a moment. Leaning in, he brushed a soft kiss over her cheek.

"I'll be careful, Sarah."

"You better," she said, looking up at him. "Because if Bryce hurts you, I'll have to hurt him right back."

"What, no confidence in me holding my own?" Teasing Sarah a little helped relieve some of the tension, let his mind clear the haze of anger somewhat.

"I have all the confidence in the world when it comes to you. I just don't want you to get hurt. On the inside," she said, resting her hand in the center of his chest.

Her soft words finished the process of calming him down. Making him lose some of his anger and focus on getting past the issues that separated him and Bryce.

"This is one of those times that if I get hurt, it'll help in the long run," he said, stroking her hair. "Why don't you go home? I think it'll be easier if I know you're not having to listen to us yelling at each other."

She looked torn but nodded. "Okay." Sarah took a deep breath. "I'll see you at home." Pressing a soft kiss against his lips, she stepped back and turned to go, only to pause. "Chuck?"

"Yeah, Sarah?"

A small smirk appeared on her face. "You could totally kick his ass."

That merited another kiss-a quick one. So Chuck brushed his lips over hers before grinning at her. "Thanks, baby."

"See you later," she said, slipping out of the office and leaving him alone. Alone to face Bryce. And that made a flock of butterflies appear in his stomach. Now he kind of wished he had stayed angry, so he wouldn't have to think about how nervous he was.

Squaring his shoulders, Chuck walked through the office building, heading to the gym on the second floor. When he stepped into the room, he saw Bryce pacing, looking annoyed.

What did he have to be annoyed about? Chuck was the one who had carried him on this mission. If it hadn't been for him, they would have screwed up another mission.

There was the anger.

Chuck set his jaw. "Bryce, what the hell happened?"

"C'mon, Chuck, this was a crappy idea, trying to get Manoosh a friend. Trust me, a guy like that needed a girl more than anything. We should have done like I said and sent Sarah in to flirt with him." Bryce's hands rested on his hips as he spoke, utter certainty in his voice.

"So you decided to bail on your research and force the issue?" Chuck said. "Without any advance warning? As a member of the team, thanks."

Bryce rolled his eyes. "God, you are such a stick-in-the-mud. This job isn't about following rules. There are no rules."

"Wrong," Chuck insisted. "There are rules, and you broke them. You put the whole mission at risk and if it wasn't for me helping you, it'd be your fault that we didn't get the intel from Manoosh's computer. It'd be you getting all the blame, because me and Sarah sure wouldn't be taking it."

"Spy Barbie didn't seem to have a problem with what happened. And although you're pretty far from Spy Ken, you should just suck it up," Bryce sneered.

He shook his head. "Bryce, what in the hell are you doing?" he asked, feeling truly confused. "When did everything turn into you being right? When did you forget who you are?"

"I'm a spy! That's who I am." Bryce's voice was loud, as if he was trying to prove the truth of his words.

"That's not everything," Chuck said. "You're also the guy who introduced me to George R.R. Martin and spent hours dissecting Star Wars. You're the guy who did handstands and back flips to impress girls." Chuck paused, then continued in a quieter voice. "If I had gotten married to Jill like I was hoping to, before she broke up with me, you would have been my co-best man."

"Then the joke's on you, Chuck, 'cause that's not me anymore. You might be a genius, but you're also a fucking idiot. You loved Jill a lot more than she ever loved you, and the last thing I would have done is be your best man. Becoming a spy was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Chuck swallowed, feeling the blow of Bryce's words. In retrospect, he was right-Jill hadn't cared for him that much. But he couldn't help thinking that Bryce was trying to distract him. Get him obsessing about Jill again, make him start doubting what he had with Sarah. All so that Chuck wouldn't keep pressing the point that Bryce had messed up and he needed to take responsibility for his actions. And that he had to stop pretending he was the perfect spy.

His old friend wouldn't look at him. Bryce's eyes kept darting around as he moved around the room, clearly not wanting Chuck to look too deeply at him. But the problem was, Chuck could see Bryce. He could see the same guy he had met at Stanford, the one who said the next century was the time for the nerd and believed it. The guy who had slowly broken free of his parents' control and started to make his own path. That Bryce was still there. He was just scared to be that guy.

Clearing his throat, Chuck tried to find the right words to get through to him. "Bryce . . . you've got to stop lying to yourself. Maybe becoming a spy was a good thing for you, but not if it means you've got to turn your back on everything that makes you into the guy I used to like so much. That doesn't have to be the way things are. It wasn't for me, I didn't change from who I was when I got recruited or got the Intersect-you can be that Bryce again and still be a great spy. You can do that-I know it-I've seen your potential. You've just got to stop being scared of yourself."

Bryce had gone still. The longer Chuck rambled, the bigger his eyes got. Like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. When Chuck finally made himself stop talking, the air in the room seemed charged, as if something important was about to happen.

When Bryce finally spoke, his voice was low and hard. "I'm not scared."

"Yeah?" Chuck pressed, stepping to within a foot of Bryce and pinning him under his gaze. "Then admit you screwed up tonight. That it was all your fault the mission nearly went south."

This close, Chuck could see the fear in Bryce's eyes. But he still wasn't prepared for the fist that came crashing into his jaw, sending him stumbling back.

Without any delay, Bryce came at him again. Chuck threw up his arms to defend himself, his body taking over while his mind was reeling. He hadn't thought Bryce was that mad: mad enough to start a fight. But if Chuck wanted a sign that he had gotten through to Bryce, getting punched was a pretty good one.

And honestly . . . it was a relief to fight Bryce. To let out the anger and frustration he had been holding on to, ever since he found out that Bryce had been the one to shoot the Fulcrum agent inside CIA headquarters. To deal with the worry and confusion he had been carrying ever since Bryce had turned his back on Chuck at Stanford.

Everything started becoming clearer, the longer they fought. After that first punch, it had shifted from your typical barroom fight into sparring. It wasn't like when Chuck had captured Bryce. That had only lasted a minute. This went on and on, like his sparring sessions with Sarah. But it was very different. He couldn't anticipate what Bryce might do, didn't know his full capabilities and his habits. And Bryce was good.

He pushed aside the urge to flash, keeping this on equal ground. They needed to do this as Chuck and Bryce, not as the Human Intersect and Special Agent Larkin.

Although he started to regret that when Bryce knocked him onto his stomach and put him in a headlock. "You think I'm scared?" Bryce hissed into Chuck's ear. "You could lose it all and what would you do then?"

Grimacing, Chuck managed to loosen Bryce's grip enough to speak. "I-I'd still have Sarah. Ellie. My friends. And myself!" He threw his head back, his skull making impact with Bryce's forehead.

With a yelp, Bryce let go and fell back on the mat, ending up lying half-on top of Chuck, his head by Chuck's feet. Chuck rolled over, ready to kip up to his feet, but to his relief, Bryce held up his hands. "No more, buddy," he wheezed.

"Thank God," Chuck panted, sinking back onto the mat. He had sweated through his t-shirt and cargo pants, he could already feel some bruises starting, and he was pretty sure he had a couple of broken fingers.

Bryce huffed out a laugh. "You're good. You still need to work on your muay Thai, though."

"And you need longer legs if you're gonna try those high kicks," Chuck retorted.

"If you weren't so freakishly tall, it'd have landed."

"Ha," Chuck said, pushing himself up on his elbows. He eyed Bryce, who had the beginning of a black eye as well as a cut lip. "You okay?"

"I'll heal," Bryce said. "Thanks for going for my face, by the way. Other than that punch I didn't touch you above the neck."

"'Cause you couldn't reach that high," Chuck snarked. But he felt a huge grin on his face. This was the kind of joking around they had done in college. Suddenly, things felt right between them-better than they had been in a long time.

Bryce sat up, too, wrapping an arm around his ribs. "Oof. I expect Sarah to thank me for not messing up your face."

"Uh-huh, sure, she'll totally do that after she finishes yelling at you," Chuck said. "And me, too."

"Women," Bryce said, pushing his hair out of his face. He looked at Chuck. "You really love her."

"Kinda why I asked her to marry me," Chuck said.

"She's better for you than Jill," Bryce said suddenly. "For one, she's clearly crazy about you."

Chuck couldn't help a small smile. "Yeah, I know."

The only sound in the room was their breaths slowing to a more normal pace. Then Bryce let out a sigh. "I've been a real tool lately, haven't I?"

"Yup," Chuck said. "A huge, enormous tool. Like the world's largest shovel-sized tool."

"Thanks for agreeing so quickly and removing any doubt," Bryce said dryly.

He shrugged and slowly pushed himself up to his feet. "I've spent the last week biting my tongue. No sense in not telling the truth now, when you're ready to hear it."

"Yeah . . ." Bryce paused and looked up at Chuck. "It really sucks when you find out that you were massively wrong. Because I thought you wouldn't be able to hack this. The lies, the secrets, hell, even the martial arts. But . . . you have."

"I'm still not okay with some of what I do," Chuck said. "And the rest of it . . . it took a lot of hard work." He held a hand out to Bryce. "I hope it's worth it in the long run."

Bryce took Chuck's hand and Chuck pulled him up. "I'm gonna say something and I know you'll make fun of me, but . . ." Bryce shifted, then said, "I'm proud of you."

Why would he make fun of Bryce for saying that? Those four simple words made everything-tonight's fight, the mission screw-ups, even Bryce's coldness at graduation-feel less bad. There were still issues to be worked out, he knew, but at least he had hope now that they could resolve any lingering problems.

"C'mon," Chuck said. "You can drive me home, and on the way we can hit In-N-Out. I'm craving a Double-Double and a black & white."

"Oh, man," Bryce groaned happily. "An Animal-style cheeseburger and a root beer float. That was about all I missed from California."

"You didn't miss me?" Chuck asked, walking slowly towards the exit. "I'm hurt."

"Yeah, and you go home and cry into your pillow every night, the one that your supermodel spy fiancée sleeps on," Bryce snarked back.

"By the way, Sarah really hates to be called Spy Barbie. Like, really hates," Chuck said.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Hurry up, I'm starving."

Going for burgers probably wasn't the best idea. Sarah was bound to be worrying and there was a mountain of info that he had managed to pull from Manoosh's computer. Going home and getting a good night's sleep before diving into the analysis tomorrow would be the smart thing to do. The James Bond way.

But Chuck wasn't James Bond. So he walked faster to catch up with Bryce, eager to get the best cheeseburgers in the world with his friend.

End, Chapter 4


	6. Chapter 5

If Chuck had known that a fist fight and a visit to In-N-Out would get his friendship with Bryce back on solid ground, he would have done it on the night he had brought Bryce in. Over cheeseburgers and shakes, they had talked about the next steps for their assignment. Chuck had also recommended that Bryce talk with Sarah.

"It's not just about working with me, you know," he said, taking a long pull on his black & white shake. "It's about learning how to work with other people while still being yourself. And since Sarah doesn't really like Bryce Bond . . ."

"Could you please find another metaphor other than James Bond?" Bryce had asked, throwing a French fry at him.

"Sorry, Jason Bourne doesn't fit you," Chuck said, grinning. "Not nearly dashing enough."

Bryce groaned and threw another fry at him. "Okay, I'll talk to Sarah. If you're okay with it."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He must have looked really confused, because Bryce snickered. "Because of course I'm going to try and steal her away."

"Nope," Chuck said, stealing some fries from Bryce's meal. "You're not a cheater. And besides, you don't know Sarah that well if you think that's even a remote possibility."

"True," Bryce said, grinning. "And besides, someone's got to fill in Sarah on all your embarrassing exploits at Stanford."

Chuck froze, his burger halfway to his mouth. Bryce snickered again before changing the subject.

Starting the next day, there was a big difference in the work environment. Sarah and Bryce had their meeting, during which Chuck did his best to appear busy and give them the privacy to talk freely. And hopefully not about him.

When they started working on their report to Graham about the Manoosh mission, it was gratifying to see Bryce admit that he hadn't prepared for his part and take full blame for what he hadn't done. It had been luck alone that had gotten them through without compromising their covers or losing out on the intel. Hopefully, they'd find something in the data Chuck had pulled from Manoosh's computer that would give them their next step.

It was Sarah who found what they were looking for. "I keep seeing references to a Von Hayes," she said, turning from her computer.

Chuck braced himself for the flash he felt coming.

_A tennis racquet-the Lamborghini logo-a photo of a man in his thirties with long blond hair and a self-satisfied expression-lines of computer code-a high-tech USB drive-a tennis racquet_

"Oh, oh-Von Hayes," Chuck said, taking a few deep breaths to shake off the flash. "Software engineer, best known for his work on decryption technology."

Sarah wrinkled her nose. "I wonder what the connection is. Why Manoosh would have so much contact with Hayes. There's dozens of emails between them."

"I'm on it," Bryce said, tapping away at his own computer.

"Okay," Chuck said, glancing at his watch. "Probably time to send in our report to Graham. I'll take care of that."

Within a half hour of submitting their report, Graham was on the video monitors. "The information you have, linking Manoosh Depak with Von Hayes, is just what we were looking for. Recently, the base code for the Intersect's operating system was stolen from a NSA facility. It was heavily encrypted, making Von Hayes's involvement necessary."

"Fulcrum must be trying to build their own Intersect again," Chuck said.

"That is what we suspect. They know about the Intersect 2.0, and since they were unable to obtain it for themselves, they're going back to the well by attempting to build one." Graham's expression was dark.

"Von Hayes is in Los Angeles now," Sarah said. "He's having a party tomorrow night."

"And that is where you will be," Graham said. "Agent Larkin, Agent Walker: you will attend the party as a couple on a date. You will need to find the software and remove it from Hayes's possession. Agent Bartowski, with your computer skills, you will direct Agents Larkin and Walker where to look and what they need to do."

"Director, wouldn't it be better if I went in with Sarah? No offense to Bryce, but working hands-on will be a lot easier than doing so remotely." Chuck was confused by why Graham was benching him, keeping him out of the field. With the Intersect 2.0 combined with his training, he was more than capable of protecting himself.

"You are too valuable to risk capture," Graham said. "And Fulcrum is certain to have Hayes under heavy guard. If anything goes wrong, you can help Larkin and Walker more on the outside."

He frowned and glanced at Sarah, whose face was expressionless. But her eyes showed some hesitation. Although he didn't agree with Graham's priorities, he could at least understand them. But that didn't mean he wanted Sarah and Bryce to be thrown to the wolves.

"Is there something you're not telling us, sir?" Bryce asked bluntly.

Graham eyed Bryce, looking annoyed. "No, Agent Larkin. Report in as soon as you have recovered the software." He stabbed a button, ending the video conference.

"So you missed the class on how to handle your CIA director," Sarah said, sitting on the edge of the conference table.

"He's holding back on something," Bryce said. "And I don't like going into a mission blind. I learned that the hard way."

Chuck had to agree with Bryce. Graham was definitely acting strangely reticent, even for a spy. But he wasn't acting illogically, at least, so proceeding with their assignment didn't set off any major alarm bells for him.

"Anyone have any non-paranoid objections to the plan?" Chuck asked, looking back and forth between Bryce and Sarah.

Bryce shrugged. "I guess not."

Sarah bit her lip, glanced at Bryce, then looked back at Chuck. "I'm fine."

The lip nibble gave her away; she was bothered by something. But if she didn't express that worry now, Chuck had to assume it was something she wanted to talk to him in private. So he just nodded, trying to tell her silently that they would talk later.

"Okay," Chuck said, clapping his hands together. "Let's start prepping for this."

While Bryce worked on investigating the layout of Von Hayes's home and other logistics, Sarah gathered the equipment they would need. Chuck kept looking for the chance to talk to Sarah as he researched what computers Von Hayes had at his disposal. It wasn't until the end of the day, right before they would leave for the night, that he got the chance when he stepped into the armory and found her alone.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, walking up to her and rubbing her shoulder. She seemed tense and that made his concern spike.

She looked up at him. "You do know what it means, me and Bryce going as a couple to this party?"

"Um, you'll mingle, you'll drink champagne . . .?"

"And we'll have to be affectionate," Sarah said, looking slightly annoyed.

Chuck wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "Affectionate? Well, yeah, you're a couple, you'd-Oh."

"Yeah," Sarah said. "We'll have to be handsy, and . . . and it's the first time since we met that I'll have to do that." She shrugged, trying to act casual, but Chuck could see through the act. "It surprised me, how the thought of touching someone else-or worse-is making me feel."

"Hey, hey," he said, pulling her into his arms. "It's okay, Sarah."

He could feel her take a few deep breaths, the tension slowly easing from her. "I just don't want you to worry."

"I'm not," he said, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "It's just part of the job. A sucky one, and one that I'm awful at, but I still wish I could be the one going in with you. But you'll be fine with Bryce."

"So you're really okay with this? Even with . . . you know? With what Bryce said about Jill?" Sarah pulled back enough to look up at him, rubbing her hands up and down his arms.

With everything that had happened during their blown surveillance mission, Chuck hadn't exactly forgotten Bryce's revelation . . . he'd just chosen to push it away. Whatever the reason for Jill breaking up with him, it happened a long time ago. And he had gotten over it. Now he had Sarah and a career and a stronger friendship with Bryce, and his life was pretty good. It didn't make much sense to worry about an old girlfriend and why she had broken up with him. Even though when he thought about Jill he got a small niggle of pain and confusion, it wasn't so bad that he had to seek out answers for what happened.

"Do I think I have anything to worry about with you and Bryce, working on this mission together? No. Because I don't think Bryce would do something like that and because I trust you," he said, gazing at Sarah softly. "Yeah, I'm a little jealous that we won't get to go in together, but that's all."

Sarah looked at him for a long moment, then she pulled him down for a long, slow kiss. Chuck closed his eyes and held her tightly, savoring her touch. When she pulled away, he couldn't help blinking at her. "What-what was that for?"

"No reason," she said softly, smiling at him. "Let's finish up and get home. We're going to have a long day tomorrow."

He nodded, still feeling a bit dazed. "Yeah, okay."

With a soft chuckle, she took his hand and led him out of the armory.

XXX

The next evening, Chuck was poking at his research into his mother's disappearance while he waited for Sarah and Bryce to finish getting ready. Not unlike the search for his father, progress had been slow on learning more about his mother. He wanted to move cautiously and not show his hand unless it was absolutely necessary. And Chuck couldn't really think of a situation where it would be absolutely necessary. So slow and steady was the name of the game.

Bryce walked into Chuck's office, wearing a tuxedo with his hair slicked back. Chuck leaned back in his chair and let out a soft whistle. "Wow. You clean up nice."

"Thanks," Bryce said, rolling his eyes as he adjusted his collar. "You've got the real job tonight, having to lead us through everything."

"Now that you've gone through Chuck Bartowski's crash course in computers for spies, you'll be okay," Chuck said, reassuring Bryce. The two of them had spent the day getting Bryce ready for whatever he might find inside Von Hayes's study, where they believed his computers to be. With Sarah's help and Chuck watching over a video link, Bryce would be able to get access to the computers and begin the transfer of the data to the CIA's servers.

"Let's hope so," Bryce said. "Sarah says she's all thumbs when it comes to computers."

"She's not as bad as . . . she . . ."

When Sarah stepped into the room, Chuck's voice trailed off as his mouth went dry. He had seen Sarah in a wide range of formal gowns. He should be prepared for her beauty and elegance and poise and sex appeal. But he never was.

She was wearing a pinky-red gown, one that hugged her chest and left her back bare except for thin spaghetti straps. The skirt was long and flowing, with a few strategically placed slits. Her hair was up in some kind of messy updo, with a jeweled pin on one side-Chuck knew that was the location of a tiny video camera, one that would relay whatever Sarah saw to him in the surveillance van.

Suddenly he understood why she had been nervous about this assignment. Because wearing that dress, she was so sexy and amazing that it was all Chuck could do not to take her arm and lead her somewhere that they could be alone.

It wasn't about not trusting Sarah or doubting Bryce. It was something deeper, more cavemanlike. Looking at Sarah, all he could think was _mine_ and _alone now_.

Taking a deep breath, Chuck made himself think instead of react. The mission. They had a mission. An important one. And the sooner they got it started, the sooner they would be done.

"Right. Okay. Looking-looking good, Sarah." He cleared his throat, hoping it would sound less raspy now. "Bryce, are you ready to go?"

Thankfully, Bryce didn't go for the joke. He held up the small electronics he would be using to break the security on Von Hayes's computers. "I'm good."

He turned to look at Sarah, bracing himself for the impact. She gave him a small smile. "I'm all set." She leaned up and kissed his cheek, then whispered in his ear, "And later tonight, it'll be just you and me."

"Great!" he said, his voice sounding a little loud. He felt himself flush a little, wondering what was causing this strange reversion to his college behavior whenever a girl was around. Perhaps it was because of Bryce, who was barely holding back a smirk.

This was getting ridiculous. He wasn't some tongue-tied nerd anymore. He was a spy with a beautiful fiancée and there was a lot riding on tonight.

"Great," he repeated at a more normal tone of voice. "Let's get you guys to the car and I'll follow you in the van. Let's do this one right."

Sarah gave him a gentle, encouraging smile. "Okay." Bryce nodded and followed Chuck and Sarah out to the garage, where a Porsche 911 was waiting.

"Too bad we can't just use your car," Chuck said, giving Sarah a small grin as he tried to regain a feeling of normalcy.

"Like I'd let Bryce drive my car," she retorted, kissing his cheek. "See you later."

"Be careful," he said to both of them as they got in the car, Bryce sliding behind the wheel.

Bryce gave him a jaunty salute, but his eyes were serious. "Get the van as close as you can to the estate, okay? Just in case."

It was tempting to tease Bryce about using him a security blanket, but Chuck held his tongue. Instead, he just nodded and then lightly tapped on the roof of the car. He stepped back and headed over to the surveillance van, climbing in and starting it up. Then he followed Bryce towards Beverly Hills.

When Bryce took the turn up the driveway to Von Hayes's mansion, Chuck kept driving for a block, finding a side street where he could park. Then he settled in, preparing to provide backup if Bryce and Sarah needed it.

At first, everything went like clockwork. Sarah and Bryce entered the mansion without a hitch, mingling with other guests while appearing to be very flirtatious. In truth, they were feeding Chuck precise information about the layout, surveillance cameras, and guards as they moved around the room.

It seemed that Graham had been right: there were quite a few people who Sarah or Bryce identified as potential Fulcrum agents. "Goons in rented tuxes always stick out," Bryce muttered. Since Fulcrum seemed to prioritize brawn over brains, Chuck had to agree with Bryce's summation.

"There are three video cameras, Chuck: one in the southwest corner of the room, one in the northeast, and one covering the entrance to the room," Sarah said quietly over comms.

"Got it," he said, punching a few keys on the laptop in the van. Carefully, he navigated through the security and soon piggybacked off the feed for the three cameras, letting him see much more than Sarah's hairpin-cam could reveal.

"The guards are watching the doors off this room, including the balcony," Bryce reported. "It might be tricky to get past them."

"We might need to step up the affection," Sarah said.

Chuck winced slightly. Having to watch his fiancée make out with his college roommate might be one of the more awkward sights he'd have to witness since he joined the CIA.

"You sure about that?" Bryce asked.

At least Bryce had learned his lesson from before and not just launched himself at Sarah. She seemed to recognize that, because she said, "Thanks for asking. It'll be fine. Chuck and I have it all worked out."

He felt his cheeks flush as he remembered Sarah's whispered promise from before the mission. Even on the grainy screen in the van, he could see Bryce smirk. "That's right, you do. Okay, let's start looking for an opening."

"The two west corridors are your best route to Hayes's study," Chuck said, leaning close to the video screens. "You might have better luck with the one that's got the kid covering it."

Through Sarah's camera, Chuck could see Bryce swiveling his head casually. "Got it. Yeah, that's our barely-grown man."

Bryce leaned into Sarah, fortunately blocking most of Chuck's view through the pin-camera. Chuck took a deep breath and started scanning the mansion's cameras, keeping an eye out for anything that might interfere with the plan. So of course, he could see Bryce lead Sarah onto the dance floor.

"Dancing?" he asked in surprise. Then his eyes widened at the frankly risqué dance that they began performing.

All eyes in the room-and two in a surveillance van parked a quarter mile away-were focused on the pair in the center of the room. They danced fluidly together, the moves precise and practiced. If Chuck didn't know better, he'd think they were a real couple.

But because he knew they weren't, he was able to see how both Bryce and Sarah were playing to the audience. How they weren't as close as they appeared, how the touches were impersonal instead of caressing. Best of all, he could hear Bryce and Sarah talking over the comms.

"You're a good dancer, Walker."

"You could use some practice, Larkin."

"Will you let me lead?"

"No."

Chuck did his best to choke back his laughter at Sarah's saucy reply, but some of it must have gotten through to Bryce and Sarah. Sarah's self-satisfied smirk deepened into outright mocking, while Bryce said, "Real funny, Chuck. You've got your hands full with this one."

"Yeah, I do," Chuck said, grinning. "Okay, the kid's all eyes. When the music stops, start edging over to him."

"Will do," Bryce said. "Oh, and Chuck?"

"What is it, Bryce?" Chuck asked, his eyes bouncing from camera to camera.

"I'd just as soon kiss a Wookiee as kiss Sarah."

"And I know Sarah appreciates that compliment," Chuck said, watching as Sarah 'accidentally' elbowed Bryce in the stomach.

"She does!" he said, sounding winded before he kissed Sarah.

It was odd. Watching Sarah kiss another man-a man that was one of his best friends-and not have it bother him was unexpected. Honestly, he had thought he'd feel at least a little jealous, but he didn't. Watching the two of them kiss, their hands running over each other . . . it looked clinical. False. Like something out of a movie. Especially when he noticed how they were both sneaking glances around the room, edging closer to the doorway they were planning to go through.

Still, Chuck breathed a bit easier once Bryce and Sarah were in the hallway and moving towards the study. His fingers flew over the keyboard, attempting to black out any cameras along their route.

"I think we're nearly there . . ." Bryce said, pausing at a junction point where two corridors and a large room met.

"Take the right-hand hallway and the study should be the third door on the left," Chuck said into his mike.

"Got it," Sarah said quietly, hurrying with Bryce down the hall. They opened the door and stepped into a room that was filled with computers. For a study, there weren't any books or leather chairs. Just windows along the back wall and tables filled with computers. There even appeared to be a few professional-grade servers tucked in a corner.

"That's it," Chuck said, wishing he could be there to check out the hardware in person. "Okay, look for the main terminal computer. It's probably on the desk there."

"Uh-huh," Bryce said, moving quickly as he pulled the cell phone file copier out of his pocket, as well as several USB drives. He sat down and got to work as Sarah stood behind him, giving Chuck a view of what Bryce was seeing.

Suddenly, the camera moved, showing the door to the study. The door that was now being opened by two of the rent-a-goons.

"Oh, crap," Bryce said softly.

They were caught red-handed. Chuck felt a spike of anxiety. "Guys?" he said, already moving to get behind the wheel of the van.

The image from the hairpin-camera jiggled and then grew steady, displaying the computer screen in front of Bryce. "Keep working!" Sarah said. "I've got these guys."

"Bryce, go, go, go!" Chuck said. "I'm lowering the security so when you're done, you and Sarah can just go out the window and make a run for it."

"Understood!" Bryce said over the comms. He glanced up, giving Chuck a view of Sarah fighting the two guards. Then Bryce focused back on the computer, copying information as quickly as possible.

Chuck juggled breaking down the estate's security, helping Bryce gather data, and worrying about Sarah. He knew Sarah was more than capable of taking on two thugs, but that didn't seem to matter.

It seemed to take forever, but was probably no more than two minutes before Bryce said, "I think we've got it!" at the same time as Sarah said, slightly winded, "Threat neutralized."

"Time to go!" Chuck said, leaping towards the driver's seat. "Get out through the window and I'll meet you on the east side of the estate."

"Okay, Chuck, we'll meet you there!" He could hear Sarah trying to sound reassuring over the comms. But until he could see her for himself, he was going to keep worrying.

Driving as fast as he could without attracting attention, he pulled into the street that ran along the east side of the mansion. There was a small gate that allowed access to the service road, and with disabling the security systems and cameras, Bryce and Sarah should be-

There they were!

He slammed on the brakes at the same time as Bryce yanked open the side door. "Go go go!" he yelled after they were both inside. Chuck didn't need to be told twice; he pressed down on the gas, driving out of Beverly Hills and towards their office.

"Sarah?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder quickly.

"I'm okay, Chuck," she said, moving to sit in the passenger seat beside him. Her hair was falling out of its bun and her face was flushed, but he didn't see any sign of injuries.

"Whew," he said. Managing a small grin at her, he then looked back at Bryce, who was pulling the hairpin-camera out of his hair. "You okay, buddy?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Bryce said as he rotated one of his ankles.

Chuck leaned back against the seat, slowing down a little as the adrenaline faded. "Okay, that was a lot closer than I thought it was going to be."

"At least this mission, we got what we came for." Bryce held up a few USB drives. "Unless I miss my guess, the Intersect software is on here."

"Good work, Bryce," Chuck said, reaching over to take Sarah's hand.

"Thanks to Sarah covering me," Bryce said, leaning forward into the front of the van. "Now you, you know your muay Thai."

"What is your fascination with that style?" Chuck asked, glancing back at Bryce.

He shrugged. "I like it."

The conversation was easy the rest of the way to the office. Chuck guessed this must be how it was for a sports team coming home after winning a game or a match or whatever. It was a good feeling to have.

Once they pulled into the parking garage, Bryce said good night and immediately went to the beat-up Honda he was driving. Chuck turned to look at Sarah and gave her hand a squeeze. "Hey."

"Hi," she said softly, moving close enough to kiss him lightly.

Chuck sighed against her lips. "I am so ready to go home."

"I'm so ready to get out of this dress," Sarah said. She pulled back and smiled at him. "We'll secure the drives and I'll change, and then we can grab some dinner on the way home."

"Sounds good," he said, rising to a crouch and moving into the back of the van to get the USB drives. Once they were out of the van and he could stretch out to his full height, Chuck blew out a breath. "I have to say, that could have gone a lot worse."

"What, the fight?" Sarah shook her head. "Chuck, those guys were all brawn and no brains. Fighting them was easy."

"Not that," he said, gazing down at her. "Having to watch instead of being on the mission with you."

Sarah didn't say anything for a long moment. "Do you mean, having to watch me dance with Bryce?"

"No," he said quickly before correcting himself. "Well, a little. I mean . . ." He shuffled his feet, trying to find the words to express what he was feeling.

"Chuck." Sarah's voice was soft and she squeezed his hand gently. "I thought you were okay with this."

"I was okay with you and Bryce when it was theoretical. Or hypothetical. Whatever. But actually seeing it? It was . . . uncomfortable."

She tugged on his hand, pulling him in close to her. "How do you think I felt? I had to kiss someone I don't love. That I don't care about. That I barely know. But what made it really uncomfortable was you."

"Because I was watching. I'm sorry, I had to watch, because of the mission-" Chuck felt himself start to sweat. He didn't want to fight about this, he didn't want to make Sarah feel like he was jealous or wanted to hold her back. That was the last thing he wanted.

"No, not because you were watching. But because you're the only person I want to kiss," Sarah interrupted him.

He swallowed. "Oh."

With a soft smile, she kissed him lightly. "Got it?"

"Yes, got it," he said, nodding at her.

"Good. Let's get going."

When Sarah spoke like that, softly but firmly, Chuck knew it wasn't about ordering him around. It was about wanting to be alone with him. So he smiled widely and picked up his pace to the office.

XXX

Thankfully, after a week of drama and excitement, the next two weeks were quiet. They hadn't finished analyzing the information from Manoosh's computer before they had the mission to pull data from Von Hayes's servers. So they were drowning in intel, and the best option was to get through it all.

Chuck would take days of paperwork. Although he'd grown to enjoy the adrenaline rush of missions, he definitely preferred to have time to recover from the excitement. So going through files and making connections, getting a feel for the big picture, was something he savored.

It also allowed Bryce time to cultivate his Fulcrum contacts. Having no missions let him stay off the radar and maintain the appearance that he was still working for Fulcrum. And as part of that, he could take what they learned from Manoosh and Hayes's files and feed false info to Fulcrum. That made it a win-win, in Chuck's book.

Plus, the lack of missions let Chuck work on some personal projects. Like spending time with Sarah and discussing their wedding. Although the date was still up in the air, there was still plenty of details they could get decided. Sarah even braved a day of wedding dress shopping with Ellie. When she came home that evening, Chuck had been ready with dinner, dessert and a foot rub, but Sarah still wouldn't crack and tell him if she had found a dress.

That was just unfair. Imagining Sarah in a wedding dress was one of the few things that helped him deal with waiting for their wedding. Still, he could understand her wanting to keep it to herself. To keep him a little bit in the dark. That was about the only thing they weren't deciding on together, after all.

Meanwhile, he had his own project to work on beside the wedding: finding his mother. The problem had taken a lot of examination, a lot of internal debate. Because if he wanted to find Mary Bartowski, he'd have to break a few laws and several CIA regulations. Basic searches yielded nothing, so getting answers meant hacking into various state and federal databases. And Chuck was leery of doing that if he wasn't prepared for the consequences. Both getting caught without getting the info and finding what he needed without being detected.

But he wanted to know what happened to his mother. He wanted her to attend his wedding. If Chuck was honest with himself, he wanted his mother and his father to have a reunion, to see if his memories of his parents' happy marriage were real or just a child's view.

So it was time to start looking for real. And he was going to start tonight. But first, he wanted to finish up today's file review.

When Bryce walked into the room, followed by Sarah, Chuck looked up from the files spread out in front of him, then took the highlighter out of his mouth. "Hey."

"I think I have something," Bryce said as he and Sarah sat down across from Chuck. Bryce passed out a few sheets of paper, which looked like printed emails. "I keep seeing references to a LaRose project. It took some time and some back-and-forth with someone I know in Fulcrum, but it's actually referring to a man. Mannheim LaRose."

Bryce paused, but Chuck shook his head. "There's nothing on him in the Intersect."

"Makes this a pretty top-secret project, I guess," Bryce said. "Anyway, he's a biochemist who works for a company that has ties with Fulcrum. Next week he's attending a biotech conference here in LA, one whose registration list happens to have quite a few individuals that are on several terrorist watch lists."

"Do you think Fulcrum is using the conference as cover?" Sarah asked, looking at Bryce.

He shrugged. "It's a possibility. So I think we should be there."

"Clearly you don't remember how badly I did in biochem," Chuck said, looking at Bryce.

With a snicker, Bryce shook his head. "No, I remembered. Your friend Morgan's working at a Buy More, isn't he?"

"He's actually the assistant manager now . . ."

"Perfect. These kind of events, they always run into tech problems. So I thought you and me could go in as computer technicians. Morgan could cover for us if the conference checks up on our cover, plus provide us with any equipment we need."

Chuck swallowed. Things with Morgan lately had been . . . difficult. His friend was alternatively clingy and stand-offish, either calling Chuck and sending texts in the dozens, or going radio-silent and ignoring Chuck. He wasn't sure what was going on with Morgan, but perhaps this would be a way to find out.

Although there was the obvious problem. "Morgan doesn't know about who I am."

Bryce frowned. "What, that you're the Intersect? That shouldn't matter."

"Actually, none of Chuck's family or friends know that he works for the CIA. Or me, either," Sarah said.

"Really?" Bryce asked, looking back and forth between them.

"I'd think you would be the last person surprised that someone wouldn't talk about being in the CIA," Chuck said, shifting in his chair.

"No, of course, it's just-you tell Ellie and Morgan everything," Bryce said, still sounding shocked.

"They don't know this." Chuck looked at Sarah, hoping she wouldn't bring up how she had advocated for him to tell his family and friend.

"Do you think you can get what you need without Morgan knowing?" Sarah asked. "Or can we make up some kind of story so he'd protect the cover?"

That was an idea. Chuck thought it over for a moment, then nodded. "Possibly. I just don't know what story is plausible for why I need to work at the Buy More."

"I'm sure we can work something out, since we have until next week," Sarah said. She looked at Bryce. "And what would you have me do?"

"You feel like being a co-ed?"

Sarah quirked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"UCLA grad students in biochemical engineering and biotechnology are running the registration tables, helping with set-up, things like that. I thought you'd fit the bill, and you'd see the backstage areas like us," Bryce explained.

"That sounds good," Chuck said.

"I can do that," Sarah said with a nod. "So we're all set?"

Bryce nodded. "I think so. Let's figure out what we're going to tell Morgan."

Between prepping for the conference and continuing their review of the intel they had recovered, the week passed quickly. Somehow, Chuck and Bryce came up with a story for Morgan, and Chuck used all of his training to bring Morgan around. It wasn't easy, especially once Morgan found out that Bryce was involved. Just mentioning Bryce's name would make Morgan act weird. Fortunately, Chuck had planned ahead by asking Morgan during a video game night, complete with Morgan's favorite kind of pizza and plenty of grape soda. But it made him think he was going to have to take some time soon to figure out what was going on with Morgan.

It'd have to wait until after this mission, though. It already felt strange enough to be wearing a Nerd Herd uniform, taking him back to those summer days when he had worked at the Buy More. But at least he didn't look as strange as Bryce did. Because something about the shirt and the tie and the pocket protector on Bryce was really, really strange. Like alternate-universe TV episode strange.

They had set up a station near the registration area, offering on-the-spot troubleshooting and technical assistance for conference attendees and presenters. Sarah was at registration, making sure to recommend the on-site Nerd Herd help. So far, Chuck and Bryce had done more tech support than spy work. But Chuck had a feeling it was just a matter of time.

The walkie talkie they had under their table crackled and Chuck grabbed it. "This is Chuck."

"Chuck, someone needs assistance setting up a projector in Crystal Room Three," Sarah said, her voice crisp and professional.

"I'm on it," Chuck said.

Their plan was working. Crystal Room Three was the site for Mannhaim LaRose's eleven o'clock presentation. Bryce and Chuck had disabled the projector in that room this morning, ensuring that they would get a call for the Nerd Herd. This would give Chuck an opportunity to scope out LaRose.

"You want to go alone? I can come with," Bryce offered.

"Nah, I've got it." Chuck picked up his briefcase of tools. "Probably better for you to stay here, in case anyone else actually needs help."

"Still think I should go, then, but okay," Bryce said with a grin. He leaned back in his chair, looking like he was rating the conference's female attendees on hotness. Which he was, Chuck knew-but he was also monitoring the floor, looking for anyone who had Fulcrum ties.

His black Converses slapped silently against the carpeted floors as Chuck made his way to Crystal Room Three, one of those typical hotel multipurpose rooms that could be subdivided into several smaller rooms. He stepped inside and headed towards the front, where a screen was lowered and a computer cart was placed in front of it. There appeared to be a woman kneeling in front of the cart while a man stood beside her and barked orders. That had to be LaRose.

"How can it not be working? I thought you were good with computers!"

The woman's voice was muffled and Chuck didn't really catch her response. He held up his briefcase as he approached. "Someone needed tech support?"

LaRose turned on Chuck. He was short, wearing glasses and mostly balding. He wore a rumpled pair of khakis and a tweed sport coat. "Finally. Yes, the projector's not working."

"Well, just let me see what I can do-" Chuck began, turning towards the computer and projector. But the words died in his throat when he realized who the woman-LaRose's assistant?-was.

It was Jill.

End, Chapter 5


	7. Chapter 7

Oh, this was bad. This was really, really, really bad.

"Chuck?" Jill said, her eyes wide behind her glasses. "What are you doing here?"

"Jill! Um . . ." he said, fumbling for some kind of excuse or explanation. But it was hard, when the girl who broke your heart in college was standing in front of you, looking at you with confusion because with a computer engineering degree from Stanford you clearly shouldn't be working for the Nerd Herd. Not to mention her boss was there, too, clearly ready to blow his top.

"It's a long story!" he said, falling back on a standard excuse. "Why don't I get this projector working for you, and then we can grab some coffee and-and yeah."

Her narrow face still twisted with confusion, Jill nodded. "Okay." She took a step back from the computer cart. "Dr. LaFl-Dr. LaRose needs to have this computer and projector ready for his presentation."

"Understood, and I will get it working," Chuck said, kneeling in front of the computer cart and getting to work. He opened up his briefcase and took out a few small screwdrivers, fiddling with the projector as his mind reeled.

How had Jill gotten involved with Mannhaim LaRose? Or was that even his name? Chuck had caught how Jill had started to say another name, but why would the scientist be going by another name? Science, like so many fields, was all about reputations and authored journal articles. What would make a scientist agree to use an assumed name?

"I tried turning the projector off and on, checked all the cables . . ." Jill said, crouching beside him.

"Um, yeah, that's good," he said, glancing at her. "This one was flickering earlier-I bet it's got a bad bulb in it." Chuck focused on the projector, unscrewing the cover and taking out the bulb that he and Bryce had sabotaged earlier. He swapped out the bad bulb for a new one, then replaced the cover and tried it again.

The projector sprang to life, the screen filling with a PowerPoint slide entitled "Bioterrorism Using Niemann–Pick C1 To Increase Ebola Virus Transmission and Replication: Some Possible Scenarios."

Chuck swallowed and looked at LaRose. "Ebola? Wow."

The scientist shrugged. "It's quite a beautiful virus. Like a woman: you think you understand it, but then it acts completely differently from how you'd expect."

"Ha," Chuck said weakly. He quickly packed up his briefcase. "You're all good to go, so I'm just . . . gonna . . . go." Scrambling to his feet, he made a beeline for the door.

"Wait, Chuck!"

Jill came hurrying after him, catching him by the door by resting a hand on his forearm. "I really would like to get that coffee. Are you free around twelve, after I finish assisting Dr. LaRose? My treat," she said, smiling at him.

He didn't understand what was going on. Jill was the one who broke up with him. Supposedly because she was in love with Bryce, although Chuck had been too leery of opening up that can of worms to discuss that revelation with Bryce. But here she was, angling for a coffee date and giving him the big Bambi eyes.

Sarah was really not going to like this. But what could he do? Jill had a connection with the very scientist they were trying to learn more about. Taking a deep breath, Chuck nodded. "Yeah, I'm free. I'm at a table in the lobby-you can just find me there whenever you're ready."

"Great!" she said. At the front of the room, Dr. LaRose was starting his presentation, so Jill gave him a big smile and then scurried up towards the first row of chairs.

Before he headed back to the lobby, before he figured out what to say to Bryce and Sarah, Chuck ducked into a restroom. He sat down on a toilet, taking a few deep breaths. The last thing he wanted to do was spend time with Jill. Seeing her took him back to the second semester of his senior year, when he had tried several embarrassing, demeaning acts in an attempt to get her back. They had all failed, and it had taken meeting Sarah during spring break for Chuck to actually start to move on from Jill.

And speaking of Sarah . . . it was one thing for her to have to kiss Bryce on a mission. That was different: they were both professionals, they both knew how the job worked. But this? Chuck seeing his college ex? She was bound to worry, even if it was just a little. And Chuck hated the idea of Sarah worrying about his fidelity. He wasn't a cheater-he never had been. Even during their rough patch last year, the thought of betraying Sarah like that had never even crossed his mind. Would never cross his mind.

It would be one thing if he and Jill had stayed friends after their break-up, but they hadn't. He got the feeling that if Sarah met Jill, she would immediately see the brunette as a threat. And that was bad news for Jill and dangerous news for him.

Or maybe he was just overreacting. After all, he had just reminded himself that Sarah understood how the job worked. Jill had a clear connection with someone they identified as a potential Fulcrum resource. Having coffee with Jill, pumping her for a little info about her boss . . . it could go a long way towards clearing up the mystery around Mannhaim LaRose. So even if she didn't like it, Sarah would agree that he should go ahead and spend a little time with his ex.

But first, he wanted to run this by Bryce. See if he could identify any traps that Chuck hadn't seen. So after washing his hands, Chuck walked back to the table where Bryce was waiting and filled him in.

"What?!" squawked Bryce. "Jill's here?"

"Shhhh!" Chuck said, looking around. "Do you want Sarah to hear you?"

"Wait, you haven't told Sarah yet? You're talking to me about this first?" Bryce gave Chuck a look. "I hope you've got a comfortable couch, buddy. 'Cause you're gonna be sleeping on it."

"It's purely professional," Chuck said, tugging on his tie a little. "If Jill could give us info that we need about LaRose, Sarah would understand that."

"Yeah, she'd understand it, but it doesn't mean she'd like it. Sarah doesn't seem like the type who likes to share."

He sighed in frustration. "Bryce, you're not helping."

Bryce eyed him, then ran a hand through his hair. "Okay. So Jill is working with LaRose?"

"She's some kind of assistant," Chuck said. "I don't know if she's helping with his research or what."

"That's something to find out," Bryce said.

"Yeah, I know," Chuck said. "I also need to come up with a reason for why I'm working tech support as a Nerd Herder."

They started brainstorming and soon settled on a story for Chuck to tell Jill: about how he had started his own company but had picked up some shifts at the Nerd Herd to help make ends meet. It was only slightly less embarrassing than if he really worked for the Nerd Herd, but it was the best they could come up with in-between helping frantic scientists with computer problems.

"You really should go tell Sarah about this," Bryce whispered as he got up to deal with a laptop displaying the Blue Screen of Death. "At least let her know you're having coffee with your ex."

Chuck looked over at the registration tables, where Sarah had quickly become very popular. She was surrounded by a cluster of scientists who were hanging onto her every word.

"I'd probably lose a limb if I tried to get through that crowd," Chuck said. "But you're right . . . I'll send her a text."

"Good," Bryce said. He walked away, trying to calm down the scientist who owned the laptop.

Taking out his phone, Chuck keyed a short message to Sarah. _Ran into Jill-has connection with LaRose. Having coffee with her. Don't worry_.

Just as his thumb hovered over the send button, a cheerful voice that he used to know very well said, "Hi, Chuck!"

It was hard not to jump from the surprise. Chuck did his best to act casual as he pressed his thumb against the screen of his phone and slid it into his pocket. "Hey, Jill," he said, standing up. "I didn't expect you this soon."

"We finished up a little early, so here I am," she said. Reaching over the table, she took his arm and managed to drag him around the piece of furniture. "Let's go before all the coffee carts get swamped when the sessions let out."

"Um, sure, sounds good!" Chuck said, looking around as Jill manhandled him towards the open-air commons at the rear of the hotel lobby. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Sarah watching him, looking very confused. He mouthed, "Check your phone!" before Jill pulled him out of sight.

"Oh, it's so good to see you, Chuck! Can you believe it's been almost two years since we were at Stanford? I can't believe how much I miss the old place. Or maybe I just miss sleeping in until eleven and wearing flip-flops to classes!"

As Jill babbled on, Chuck just nodded and went along for the ride. There had to come a point where he could turn the conversation towards what he needed to know. And Jill was prone to getting excited and letting her mouth run away with her. Not that he had ever seen this behavior directed towards him; Jill had always been the calm, cool one in their relationship.

It made him wonder just what had her so hyped up.

XXX

When he followed Sarah into their apartment that night, Chuck wondered if it was possible that a day could have more than twenty-four hours. Because today had certainly felt like the longest day of his life.

The coffee date with Jill had been very successful, but in unexpected ways. At first, their discussion was just small talk. He found out that since graduation, she had finished her master's degree and started her Ph.D at UCLA, where she had met Dr. LaRose. He had recruited her to be part of his research team, which was examining methods of biological warfare and ways to prevent it. Which made him a little nervous, given how bloodthirsty Jill always got when playing EverQuest.

The second-most surprising part of the date happened when Jill leaned in towards him and confided that Dr. LaRose was working under a pseudonym.

"It's the strangest thing, but he said that we all had to call him Dr. LaRose now. He got a second lab space with brand-new equipment, a bunch of different assistants-I'm the only one from his old research team that he invited to work with him." Jill had looked down, biting her lip, then looked back up at him. "I think I might be in trouble."

There was a catch in her voice and her eyes seemed to be shimmering with tears. But while in college this would have immediately made Chuck rush to her aid, now he held back. Just a little. Because after all his training, something about all this rang false to him. But he wasn't about to reveal his doubt to Jill. Not now. So he had taken her hand and given it a gentle squeeze.

"I want to help, then," he said quietly.

"You do?" she asked, sniffing a little. "Oh, Chuck."

He passed her a napkin, keeping a hold on her hand, even though it felt so weird to hold her hand again. How had he never noticed that her fingers were so bony? He kept trying to find a comfortable position to wrap his fingers around hers, but nothing seemed to fit.

"It must be strange, to have your boss want you to call him another name," Chuck said, trying to get more information out of her without feeling more and more like he was manipulating her.

Jill wiped the napkin under her eyes, then held it clenched in her fist. "It is. He gets so mad if I slip up. But really, he took Guy LaFleur and turned it into Mannhaim LaRose." She gave him a weak smile. "It wouldn't take a spy to figure that out." Then her smile faded. "Chuck, ow, you're hurting me!"

As the flash hit him, he had squeezed hard on her fingers, because he was so unprepared for the flash.

_A yellow rose-a hockey stick-journal articles written by Guy LaFleur-"Is Bioterrorism Ever Justified? A Scientist Comments"-invoices from Fulcrum shell companies paid to Guy LaFleur-a long list of code names labeled FULCRUM AGENT LIST-a yellow rose_

Chuck panted, reeling from what he had seen. LaFleur had a complete list of Fulcrum agents? The possibilities such a list held . . . Suddenly, he realized just how hard he must be gripping Jill's fingers.

"Sorry, sorry!" He let go of her hand quickly. "I just-I was so surprised by how close his fake name is to his real one. That'd be like me going by Charley Bart or something. Don't you think?"

She looked at him, her eyes slightly narrowed with annoyance. Clearly, it was past time to wrap this up.

"Look, I have to get back to work, but how about we exchange phone numbers?" Chuck suggested, digging out his phone. To his chagrin, he saw his text message to Sarah still displayed on the screen. But since he wasn't about to reveal to Jill that he was engaged, he did his best to hide his reaction.

They had swapped phone numbers and Chuck had promised to call her in a few days. A promise he wasn't going to keep. With his past relationship with Jill, it would be a conflict of interest for him to continue investigating her. If he reported his flash to Director Graham, someone else could start tailing Jill as well as LaFleur, alias LaRose (which really was a simple alias and he should have seen that!). They could get the agent list and then Fulcrum would be gone.

Unfortunately, Director Graham didn't see it that way during Chuck's briefing.

"Your previous relationship with Ms. Roberts, and your flash about Dr. LaRose's true identity and his possession of Fulcrum's agent list, makes it critical that you maintain contact with your former girlfriend. In fact, you should resume a relationship with her."

He could feel Sarah stiffen beside him. Chuck took a step forward. "Director, I'm not comfortable with this."

Graham's eyes narrowed. "Agent Bartowski, your commitment to Agent Walker notwithstanding, this is what a CIA operative does. You will make arrangements to see Ms. Roberts again and begin cultivating her as an asset, in order to acquire the Fulcrum agent list." Chuck opened his mouth to protest, but Graham said harshly. "That's an order, Agent Bartowski."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sarah's blank expression. She had shut down, retreating back behind her mask instead of fighting this. And although part of him wanted her to fight, he understood why she hadn't. Just like he knew it was futile for him to argue with Director Graham. So he had simply nodded.

"Good," Graham said. "Find out what Ms. Roberts knows and report back immediately."

"What's up with Fulcrum, though?" Bryce asked. "First it was building a new version of the Intersect, now it's bioterrorism . . ."

"They're desperate. They're clinging to any straws they can grasp in order to take down the government. Which makes targeting Ms. Roberts even more important." Graham looked at Chuck for a long moment before ending the videoconference.

Bryce looked at Chuck and Sarah, then took a step back. "I've got a lot of paperwork to get caught up. I'll let you two . . ." His voice trailed off, then he turned on his heel and escaped so fast, Chuck almost expected to see two trails of fire where his feet had been.

Chuck swallowed and turned to Sarah. Her body was tense and she kept her head lowered, hiding her expression from him as she shuffled some folders. He took a small step toward her. "Sarah . . . I tried to tell you about Jill. I had a text message all ready to send when she surprised me, so the message didn't get sent. I can show it to you-"

"I don't need to see it, Chuck," she said quietly. "We have work to do."

No. He wasn't going to let this happen to them. Not after nearly losing her from not talking. They had to discuss this. But he didn't want to push her and make her say something she'd regret. Or have her provoke him into starting a fight. He hated fighting with Sarah.

"Could we talk about this tonight?" he asked quietly. "When we get home?"

It seemed like it took decades for Sarah to think it over and then lift her head to look at him. She nodded slowly. "Okay," she said, her voice equally quiet. "I . . . I'll know what to say by then."

Feeling a huge wave of relief that she was meeting him halfway, Chuck took a deep breath. "Okay, then. I-I'm gonna go work with Bryce." He gathered up some files and papers, then moved into the other conference room.

Bryce looked up as Chuck walked in. "You guys okay?" His expression was serious.

"We will be. We're going to talk more tonight," Chuck said, sitting down and trying to focus on the work.

He nodded and then passed Chuck a file. "Looks like Fulcrum have been funding LaFleur's research for over a year. They started when they had money to burn. Now that most of their funding sources are drying up, they're down to LaFleur and the various yahoos who have handled one part or another of the Intersect."

"I wonder why LaFleur has Fulcrum's agent list . . ." Chuck wondered aloud.

"Dunno," Bryce said. "But if we get that, getting rid of Fulcrum would be easier than a giant stomping on bugs."

Opening the folder and flipping through the papers, Chuck started reading. It was hard. Not because the information was difficult to absorb, but because he hated having anything left unresolved between Sarah and himself. But she needed time to process, he knew. And even though it hurt to put off talking, to let his mind spiral out all the possible outcomes of tonight's conversation, he would give her that time.

The closer it got to six, the harder it got to concentrate on the paperwork. By five forty-five, he had to give up. Stacking the files and papers, he looked at Bryce. "See you tomorrow?"

Bryce nodded and stood up. "Yeah. Go talk things over."

"That's the plan," Chuck said, taking a deep breath and then heading into the office.

Sarah was bent over her desk, looking completely focused. But Chuck knew better. Her eyes weren't moving back and forth and her face looked unsettled. And the tension in her shoulders told him that they would have a long night ahead of them.

He shifted his feet, then spoke quietly. "Sarah? Are you ready to go?"

She didn't jump at the sound of his voice. But she tensed up even more, before relaxing a little and turning to look at him. "Yeah," she said, standing up and arranging the files in front of her.

There were so many ways to start this conversation. He was tired of waiting. But he still wasn't sure Sarah was ready. Perhaps once they were home, when they were Chuck and Sarah and not Agents Bartowski and Walker, it would be easier.

And to be honest, he was still really nervous about this conversation. So waiting an extra half-hour to get started was fine with him.

They stayed silent the whole way to their apartment. Sarah drove precisely, her hands gripping the steering wheel. Once they arrived, they walked into the apartment and Sarah kicked off her heels before turning to look at him. She still looked tired, her forehead wrinkled. But her eyes didn't look so distant as earlier.

"Okay," she said softly. "Let's order a pizza and start talking."

"Yes, right, good," Chuck said. "But first-" He crossed to her slowly, holding his arms out. When she didn't step away or give him any other signal to stop, he wrapped his arms around her tightly. He needed this contact. Needed her to know just how much he needed her.

Sarah hesitated for just a second before she slid her arms around his waist. Her face pressed against his shoulder and she breathed deeply.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I know you are," Sarah said, shifting and moving her face into that spot between his shoulder and his neck, the spot that seemed designed for her. "I just . . . I don't want you to get hurt. And Jill seems like she could hurt you. Even now."

He rubbed his hand against her back. "Maybe . . . but to hurt me, I'd have to care about her. Care about how she makes me feel. And today, I realized that I really don't."

There was a distinctly non-Sarah huff that escaped from his fiancée before she pulled back to look at him, skepticism evident on her face. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously!" he insisted. "Other than some mild confusion over why she did break up with me, I don't feel much of anything for Jill." He shrugged. "We weren't ever really friends. I had a crush on her from the moment I met her, and getting to date her made me feel amazing. Back then. But now?" Chuck reached out to brush some of Sarah's hair away from her forehead. "Now I've got you."

Her skepticism faded as her face softened, a small smile appearing on her face. "So having me makes you not have feelings for your ex?"

"It makes me realize that what I felt for Jill, although it was real back then-it doesn't compare to how I feel about you." He slowly ran his hands up and down her arms. "It actually lets me look at her with a clearer set of eyes. To see what I didn't want to notice back when we were together, and what I can't help seeing now."

Sarah's face lit up a little. "And what did you see?"

Chuck pulled her over to the couch, drawing her down onto the cushions. "Well, to start, I-" He stopped and tilted his head, looking at Sarah. Then he smirked. "You want me to say all the flaws I see in Jill now."

It shouldn't be possible for Sarah to pout and blush at the same time. But Sarah Walker was pretty extraordinary, so of course it was possible. "She's the woman who broke your heart before I met you. I'm already predisposed to not like her. This way, I'd not like her for actual reasons beyond 'she hurt Chuck'."

There wasn't any other way for him to respond except laughing. Through his chuckles, he asked, "Oh, really?"

She lightly punched him in the shoulder. One that she telegraphed, so he could brace himself. "Hey, who got a little jealous when I had to dance with Bryce on our last mission?"

"Okay, okay, valid point," Chuck said, wrapping an arm around her. "So you're really okay with this?"

"Honestly?" she asked. When he nodded, Sarah blew out a breath. "I'm trying to be," she said softly. "Somehow, this feels different from what happened on the Von Hayes mission between me and Bryce."

"I get that," Chuck said, rubbing her shoulder. "Because I knew Jill before I was a spy, because we actually dated for years . . . versus you having to deal with Bryce for a mission."

Sarah nodded. "It's not that I don't trust you or because I have anything to worry about," she said, reaching out to rest the hand with her engagement ring on his knee. "Like I said, I don't want you to get hurt. And even though you say you don't feel anything for her, I don't-" She stopped and nibbled a little on her lower lip.

He gently nudged her shoulder. "Tell me. I want to know."

After a moment of hesitation, when he could practically see her gathering her thoughts, she said haltingly, "I . . . I don't want you to feel like you have to tell me what you think I want to hear. I won't-I don't want empty promises or false reassurances, Chuck. I just want the truth."

It was on the tip of his tongue to start blurting out exactly what he was feeling at that moment. That he would never lie to her, that he didn't feel like he had to tell her what she wanted to hear, that he just wanted to make her happy. But instead, he held back the words and actually thought for a long moment.

"I want that, too," he said. "And no offense, but both of us, in the last year, spent a lot of time dismissing things that we should have been talking about. So that the six or seven little problems we had became one big problem. I don't want that to happen again."

"Me, either," Sarah said, looking up at him. "And things have been amazing the last few months-I've been so happy, Chuck." She reached out and lightly stroked along his jaw. "You make me so happy."

There had been far too much time since they had last kissed. So Chuck leaned in and kissed her slowly and softly, pouring himself into the kiss. And Sarah kissed him back with just as much love and happiness as he did.

In this kiss, Chuck knew that things were okay now. That they both knew where they stood, knew the challenge ahead of them but were prepared to face it together. Sarah would protect him from getting hurt by Jill, and he would protect her from getting hurt by seeing him with Jill.

"I love you," he said softly against her lips.

Sarah shifted so she could look up at him. "I love you, too." She stroked his hair softly. "You know what I think we should do tonight?"

"What should we do tonight?" he asked as he pulled her into his lap.

She smirked at him. "You're getting ahead of yourself, Bartowski."

He grinned and shrugged. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

"Uh-huh," she said, laughing as she kissed his cheek. "Let's get some pizza and then we'll start talking about the wedding. I'm tired of waiting. I think . . . I think we need to start doing actual planning. Like, picking where we want the ceremony to happen, how many people we want to invite."

"You're seeing Ellie sometime soon, aren't you?" he asked with a grin.

"No . . . yes," Sarah admitted sheepishly. "But it's true. I know we need to wait until Fulcrum is dealt with before we can set the date, but if we don't have anything decided when that happens, it'll delay the wedding even more."

"Flawless logic, baby," he said, kissing the tip of her nose. "Okay, let's do it."

"No, that comes later," she said, lifting herself off his lap and walking over to grab the pizza delivery menu with an extra sway in her hips.

Chuck did a double-take, then grinned widely. He had the most amazing, most beautiful, smartest fiancée in the whole world.

XXX

For once, Chuck felt confident as he walked up to the sandwich shop that was near the Burbank Buy More. He had arranged to meet Jill there, claiming that he would have just gotten off working a Nerd Herd shift.

Part of his confidence came from Sarah's support. She had done a lot to prepare him for this "date" with Jill, from helping him pick out his clothes to offering to stay off comms during it.

"It'd be too distracting to have my voice in your ear when you're on a date with another woman," she had said.

Although he wasn't sure that was the only reason, he was so grateful that she was there, helping him in so many different ways. Because this situation was strange enough to begin with. If Sarah was mad at him, he'd have an even harder time doing this assignment.

And it was plenty hard. How was he supposed to date his ex? She had dumped him and shut him out of her life, dumped him for reasons that had never been entirely clear. Especially not now.

He paused outside the shop and smoothed down his button-down, feeling thankful that he'd taken Sarah's advice to not show up in a Nerd Herd uniform.

"There's selling the cover, and then there's shooting yourself in the foot," she had said, adjusting how much he had rolled up the sleeves of his black button-down.

"Stop preening and get in there," Bryce said through his earwig.

"I'm just making sure I'm ready," Chuck said, looking around and wondering what camera Bryce was using to watch him.

"You're ready. Get going or else Jill will think you're standing her up and you know much she loves that."

Chuck winced. "That was one time and it was an honest mistake."

"Uh-huh, but Jill doesn't remember it like that." Bryce's voice was more sympathetic when he spoke again. "Sarah's down in the gym. She's not listening or watching."

That report helped soothe some of the butterflies in his stomach. Chuck nodded and took a deep breath before stepping into the deli.

It was a cozy place, with wood-paneled walls and a lot of plants. The deli cases were full of tantalizing meats and cheeses and there was a yeasty smell of fresh bread in the air. Morgan might be mad at him, but the little bearded man had come through on the lunch spot recommendation.

"Chuck!" Jill waved to him from a corner table, a bottle of water in front of her.

He gave her a small wave back, then navigated around the line snaking through the space to get to the table. "Hi, Jill."

She jumped up from her seat and gave him a hug. "Hi!"

Being hugged by Jill felt so . . . off. He couldn't help stiffening for a moment, before he reminded himself that he was supposed to be happy to see her. So he leaned down-more than he remembered doing in the past-and hugged her back. "It's good to see you again."

"More than good," she said, pulling back from him and smiling widely. She was wearing her contacts today, he noticed. Perhaps she was trying to look better? That was what she had done in college-worn her contacts when she was trying to make a good impression.

And . . . hi-yo!

Chuck quickly looked away from her chest, which was much more on display than he had realized. "Are you hungry?" he asked in a rush. "I got hungry just walking in."

For a second, a flash of annoyance appeared on her face, before she pasted her smile back on. "Sure," she said. "Do you remember what I like?"

"Oh, boy, don't I," Chuck said, doing his best to grin. "How many corned beefs on rye with spicy mustard did I order for you at Stanford?"

"A lot," Jill said, resting her hand on his arm and giving it a squeeze. "Ask them to go light on the corned beef. And I'll take a cream soda to drink, too."

He gave her a small salute and joined the line waiting to put in their sandwich orders. He watched from the corner of his eye as Jill sat down and pulled out her phone, quickly becoming engrossed in whatever she was doing.

Between the contacts, the cleavage, and the enthusiasm, it seemed clear that Jill was trying to spark his interest. And he didn't know why. If he was Bryce, he'd get it. But not him, the guy she had dumped in college.

Unfortunately, the line wasn't nearly long enough to give him the time to figure out what Jill was doing. After about ten minutes, he was back at their table, holding a tray of sandwiches and sodas.

"Here we go," he said, trying to sound upbeat. Like he wanted to be here, like this wasn't about manipulating the ex-girlfriend whom he had no interest in reconnecting with.

"Mmm," Jill said, smiling toothily at him.

Chuck smiled back, sitting down and taking the plate with his grilled Rueben off the tray.

"Awww, look at you, almost copying me!" Jill said, holding up her light-on-the-corned-beef sandwich.

"The corned beef looked so good, I couldn't resist," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

Jill took a dainty bite of her sandwich, then drank a bit of her cream soda. "So you were just coming from the Buy More?" she asked. "I'm so glad you changed before our date. That uniform, with the tie and all, does nothing for you."

"Um, thank you?" he said, tugging a little on the collar of his shirt and feeling the color rush into his cheeks.

"You're more nervous than you were on the Ferris wheel," Jill said, her eyes dancing. "Am I going to have to kiss you to help you calm down?"

"Ooh, funny," he said, shifting in his chair a little. This date was spiraling out of his control so much faster than he thought it would. "But-but that didn't really calm me down back then."

"Chuck, you need to take the upper hand," Bryce said over the comms. "Make this about Jill. Get her talking about herself."

"So-so-so why are you going lighter on the corned beef?" he asked quickly, since it was the first thing that popped into his head.

He could hear Bryce groan through his earwig, but he did his best to ignore it while Jill answered him. There wasn't a lot of finesse in his approach, he knew, but he didn't have Sarah or Bryce's training in seduction. That was something that was glossed over in his initial recruit training, and they certainly didn't teach it during Project Omaha.

Slowly and a bit clumsily, he tried to direct the conversation and get Jill talking about her job. When she didn't take the bait, he finally reached out and rested his hand on top of hers. "You said you thought you might be in trouble . . ."

Her whole attitude changed. Instead of flirty smiles and a posture that maximized her cleavage, Jill's eyes went dim and her shoulders hunched. She nodded. "Yeah . . . I-I was really excited to get this position. My boss is working on some really cutting-edge research and here I was, just starting my doctorate. It seemed like a huge opportunity for me."

"But now?" he prompted after she fell silent.

"Now . . . now there's always new people coming into the lab. Not scientists-they're always meeting with Dr. LaRose. And-"

Jill hesitated, then pulled her hand away from his and straightened up. "You don't want to hear all my woes," she said, giving him a weak smile. "I'd rather hear about you."

Chuck nearly groaned. He almost had something, and he didn't feel nearly confident enough in his abilities to manipulate Jill to get the conversation back to her work. But then, gaining an asset's trust often took time. So maybe it was better to go slow. Wait until he could get some advice from Sarah about how to do this.

Dr. LaRose or LaFleur or whatever his name was-he had a list of all of Fulcrum's agents. It was something they had been after for months. Gaining that list was critical and because it was so important, he sensed that Graham would give him the necessary time, in spite of the director's bluster. Chuck couldn't afford to make any mistakes here.

For a little while, he'd have to forget that he was engaged and act like he was interested in Jill. Would have to flirt with her and carry on a relationship. And even though just thinking that made his skin crawl a little, he had to do it if he wanted to help eliminate Fulcrum and marry Sarah.

Taking a deep breath, Chuck took a sip from his can of Coke. "So, Jill . . . are you seeing anyone?"

End, Chapter 6


	8. Chapter 7

It was ridiculous. She was punching and kicking a heavy bag, feeling the throb deep in her muscles each time she made contact. The sweat was pouring off her, her hair was sticking to her face, and she was pretty sure she hadn't taped her hands enough under her gloves. Not enough for this kind of workout.

Sarah stopped, letting her forehead rest against the bag. It was ridiculous to act like this when she knew the truth. Knew that Chuck had no interest in Jill, knew that he was all hers. But she felt so angry at this whole ridiculous situation and this was the only way she knew of letting it out.

The only way that wouldn't end with Chuck's ex needing plastic surgery to repair her injuries and Sarah in a maximum-security federal prison for the rest of her life, that is.

Stepping back from the bag, Sarah slid off her gloves and began unwinding the gauze from around her knuckles.

"Done being Nikita now?"

Bryce's voice echoed a little in the spacious gym. Sarah looked over at him. "Who?"

"Never mind," he said, grinning for a moment. He walked over to her. "Chuck's on his way back. Should be here in about fifteen minutes." He paused and Sarah could feel his eyes on her. Then, as if he was almost unconscious of the words, he said, "Didn't think Chuck would ever end up with someone like you."

"No?" she asked, flexing her hands.

Chuckling, Bryce shook his head. "You should have seen him at Stanford."

Sarah looked at Bryce for a moment before returning her attention to her hands. While they had buried the hatchet between them and she was happy that Bryce was rebuilding his relationship with Chuck, she wouldn't say that she was friends with Bryce. But on the other hand . . . he had first-hand knowledge of what Chuck was like before they met. And he had seen Chuck and Jill together. Perhaps he would be willing to talk about them, answer some of her questions . . .

Picking up her water bottle, she took a long sip as she made up her mind. Although really, was there any way that she'd pass up this opportunity?

"What was he like back then?"

Bryce shrugged a little and hoisted himself up on the pommel horse, managing to squeeze in between the pommels. "Awkward. Especially around girls. Pretty gawky; he was still growing into his last growth spurt." Bryce smiled a little. "Nice. A good guy, you know?"

In her mind's eye, she could almost see him. There had been photos in Chuck's file of him from throughout his time at Stanford: big, trusting eyes, a mop of curly hair, too-big sweatshirts. But more than what he looked like, you could get a sense of who he was in those pictures. And 'good guy' was exactly what Sarah would have said.

She took a seat on the mats and began stretching. If she was focusing on her muscles, on loosening them after her workout, she would have something to make her look busy. To make it appear that Bryce's answers weren't things she was dying to learn.

"He was really crazy about Jill, wasn't he?"

"In a word, yes." She could feel Bryce's eyes on her as she stretched. Not in a leering or sexual way; more like he was measuring her. Seeing if she was good enough for his friend, if Bryce wanted to reveal what he knew to her. It was a bit strange-a feeling she wasn't used to.

Looking up at him, Sarah leaned back on her hands. "I'm not asking you to reveal all of Chuck's secrets. But I don't want this situation to hurt him. You know Chuck . . . he'd take all the pain in the world to spare someone else, even if it's someone like an ex-girlfriend."

"But that's what makes him Chuck," Bryce said. "You really wanna change that?"

Sarah blew out a breath. "No."

Bryce nodded. "Good. So, Chuck and Jill. He spent almost a year having an epic crush on her, before he finally made a move. It was all EverQuest and buying her fro-yo and studying together."

It was hard to keep her face blank. Because it all sounded so . . . normal. Not like how she and Chuck had met. But then, Jill was a normal girl, and Chuck had been a normal guy back then. And really, did it matter how Chuck had met her? He was with her now.

Her confidence somewhat bolstered, Sarah looked up at Bryce. "What did he do? To make a move?"

He grinned. "Paid a carny to strand them at the top of a Ferris wheel."

Somehow, Sarah managed to hold back her snort of laughter and keep it to a few chuckles. "Did he forget that he doesn't like heights when he's out in the open like that?"

"He thought he was in love," Bryce said with a shrug. "He thought it would be romantic."

"Only Chuck," she said, shaking her head as she finished stretching and got up off the mats. She took a few more sips of water, then gave Bryce a long, hard look. "Did you think they'd stay together?"

Bryce looked thoughtful, then lifted himself up on the pommels into a decent handstand. "Maybe?" he said, slowly performing various gymnastic elements on the pommel horse. "Chuck was gaga about her and Jill seemed happy enough. There's plenty of people that would have said it was good enough."

"Chuck had no idea that Jill was going to break up with him?"

"No one had any idea she was going to break up with him," Bryce said, showing off and dismounting from the horse with a back somersault.

"Nice dismount," Sarah said, tossing her empty bottle of water at him.

"Thanks," Bryce said, grinning as he caught the bottle and then sent it through the air towards the recycling bin.

"The breakup was totally out of left field," Bryce continued, leaning back against the pommel horse. "And coming in our last semester of senior year, Chuck was already stressed to the limit. So he buried himself in his books and didn't think about his broken heart."

Sarah nodded. "Until he came to Mexico and met me."

"Who'd have thought that, huh?" Bryce said, looking amused. "I never would have guessed that Chuck would have ended up with you."

"That's the second time you've said something like that," Sarah said, pinning Bryce under her gaze. "What do you mean by that?"

"Easy there, blondie," Bryce said, holding his hands up. "All I'm saying is, the Chuck I knew at Stanford, even before Jill dumped him, he didn't have the confidence he's got now. And it's not just from having you." He paused and sighed. "Getting recruited was probably one of the better things to happen to Chuck. I hate admitting it, but the evidence kinda stares at you in the face."

"He's special. Extraordinary," Sarah said softly.

"Yeah, he is," Bryce said, pushing away from the apparatus and heading towards the door of the gym. "It's good to see that he realizes it now. And that he's got someone like you who sees it, too." Bryce looked back at her and gave her a small salute before leaving the gym.

If she had to guess, Sarah would say that Bryce was telling her that he approved of her. That he thought she was a better match for Chuck than Jill ever was, better than any other woman out there. And although she hadn't been fishing for his approval . . . it was nice to have it.

She took a quick shower to wash off the sweat, then got dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before heading up to their offices. In the main conference room, Chuck and Bryce were talking: Bryce sitting on the table while Chuck was slumped in one of the chairs.

"Hi. How did it go?" she asked as she sat next to Chuck.

"Don't ask," he said, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

That wasn't good. Sarah glanced at Bryce, who looked annoyed. "Chuck was just telling me how he didn't get any seduction training."

Sarah frowned, then nodded. "That's normally done in second-stage training, and instead of getting that, Chuck went through the specialized Project Omaha curriculum."

"Yeah, and now Chuck's in a seduction situation he doesn't know how to handle."

"I am still right here, guys," Chuck said, sounding equal parts embarrassed and frustrated.

"Sorry, Chuck," Sarah said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, I can get you brought up to speed."

Bryce snorted. "I bet."

Sarah gave Bryce an icy glare before turning back to Chuck. "I know this is hard, Chuck," she said gently. "What did you have trouble with?"

"Everything," he said. From the slump of his shoulders and his lack of eye contact, Sarah could tell that he was down in the dumps.

"From my end, it looked like he couldn't keep the focus on Jill," Bryce volunteered. "She took control of the conversation and made it all about Chuck, so he couldn't find out much about her job or LaFleur."

"That is tricky," Sarah said, rubbing Chuck's shoulder. "But we can work on it."

Chuck straightened up in his chair and looked at her. "It just feels so . . . manipulative."

"I know," she said, sliding her hand down his arm to wrap her fingers around his. "But unfortunately, it is a bit manipulative. You just have to tell yourself that you're doing it for a reason. Not to get off on the power of controlling someone, but to gain information that you need to have."

"Since you're in good hands, Chuck, I'm going home," Bryce said, before smirking slightly.

She rolled her eyes at Bryce's innuendo, while Chuck went a bit red as he nodded. "Good night, Bryce."

Once Bryce had strolled out of the room, Sarah squeezed Chuck's hand. "I'm sorry you had a hard time tonight."

"I just . . . I felt more awkward than I ever have with a girl," Chuck said, looking embarrassed. "And that's saying something. All I kept thinking about was what Bryce was telling me to do and trying to do it and failing miserably."

"It'd probably be easier if you didn't already know Jill," Sarah said. "Because you feel like she knows you. But Chuck, she doesn't. She has her own conception of who you are, but it's not necessarily accurate. So it's about acting like she expects you to act, but not getting caught up in the moment like you would if it was real."

It took Chuck a moment to digest this, then he nodded. "I see what you mean . . . but still, how do I do it?"

Explaining the theory behind seduction was so much easier than having to teach someone to put it into practice. Especially when she was teaching her fiancé how to seduce his ex. Sarah took a deep breath. "Okay, well, for example: say that you're in a moment when Jill would expect you to kiss her. What do you do?"

"Do everything I can to avoid such a moment?" Chuck asked weakly.

"As sweet as that is, Chuck, I don't know if that approach will work," she said, trying to sound supportive. She gave him a small smile, then stood up, pulling him to his feet as well. "Pretend I'm Jill. And I'm asking you a bunch of questions about yourself. How would you redirect the conversation and make it about her?"

She could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he searched for an answer. Hesitantly, he asked, "Would I sound like too much of a tool if I said something like, 'I'm more interested in talking about you'?"

"No, that's good," she said. "You definitely want to be doing more listening than talking. So ask her questions. Don't avoid answering all of her questions, but make it about her. Pretend . . . Pretend like Jill is the most fascinating woman in the world."

"I've already met the most fascinating woman in the world, and it's not my ex-girlfriend," Chuck said, giving her a small, shy smile.

It would be wrong for her to skip the rest of the seduction lessons and go straight to a hands-on practical test, wouldn't it?

Sarah smiled, but gave him a gentle shoulder poke. "None of that, now. C'mon, I need you to concentrate on this."

"Okay," Chuck said, shaking his head. "What else?"

"You've spent dinner listening to Jill, watching her. Making her feel special. And now you're walking to the car," Sarah said, setting the scene. Hoping she wouldn't regret this. "You'll want to maintain eye contact with Jill. If you can't look in her eyes, look at her forehead." She gave him a gentle nudge, prodding him to follow her directions.

He drew his eyes to hers, gazing at her with warmth and interest and she could feel herself getting turned on. Her voice sounded a bit breathy when she spoke. "Now lower your eyes to her lips. And tuck some of her hair behind her ear. Get close, give her the signal that you're moving in."

As he drew near, his eyes slipped shut, and Sarah took a deep breath. Suddenly, with all the passion in her, she hated that Chuck might be doing this with Jill. But she couldn't let on that she felt this way, or else Chuck would be bound to mess up when the time came with Jill. So she gave him a gentle peck on his lips and stepped back.

Chuck's eyes fluttered open. He gazed at her for a long moment, then took her left hand in his. "Okay there?" he asked, his voice soft and caressing.

"Yeah," she said, sliding her fingers between his. "I . . . I'll just be really glad when we've gotten the intel from Jill and this assignment is done."

"Me, too," Chuck said. "I mean . . . isn't it weird to be teaching your fiancé how to seduce another woman?"

"Welcome to life in the CIA," Sarah said, running her hand through her hair.

"C'mon," he said, rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. "Let's go home."

Sarah nodded and started walking with him. And if she was practically cuddled up against his side, something she almost never did, Chuck didn't seem to mind.

XXX

If there was some kind of CIA award for meritorious service, Sarah was pretty sure she earned it over the next three weeks. In that time, Chuck and Jill progressed to having dinner two or three nights a week and spending most of the weekend together. Between the frequent phone calls, the nearly-constant text messages, and the random emails "just because," Jill made sure she was never far from Chuck's mind.

She really didn't like having to share Chuck like this. And she knew Chuck realized how she felt and was doing his best. When he sent flowers to Jill, he sent gardenias to her. They would eat lunch together in one of the offices, taking time for each other. And at least there hadn't been a need to set Chuck up in his own apartment; he had told Jill that he was staying with Morgan. Between Jill's dislike of Morgan and Morgan's lack of knowledge about Jill's return, Chuck always ended up at Jill's hotel room when they were hanging out together.

At least Sarah got to go home with Chuck and sleep by his side every night. That made the whole situation somewhat bearable.

Sarah looked up as Chuck walked in, carrying a bag with their lunch. "Hi," she said, pushing aside the paperwork in front of her and making room for the food.

"Hi, yourself," he said, swooping down and kissing her cheek before pulling sandwiches, fruit salad, and two bottles of water out of the bag. "Grilled Reuben for me, ham and cheddar on whole grain for you."

"Thank you," she said, giving him a small smile. "Oh, and one more thing-" She reached out and pulled him in for a long kiss, nuzzling him before pulling away and unwrapping her sandwich.

Chuck blinked, then shook his head out. "What-what was that for?"

"With what you're eating? I'm not going to want to kiss you for a few minutes. So I thought I'd take my opportunity while I could." Sarah grinned at him.

"Ha, ha, very funny," he said, pulling the paper away from his sandwich. "I will bring you around on the Reuben. Because otherwise, I'm not sure we can get married."

To show him just what she thought of that idea, Sarah stuck her tongue out at him, then popped a grape into her mouth.

He smiled at her and took a bite of his sandwich. "What are you working on?"

"Learning more about Guy LaFleur," she said with a sigh. "I think you'll need to take over, because Bryce and I aren't making much headway."

"Why not?" Chuck asked through a bite of sandwich.

Sarah wrinkled her nose a little at the Reuben fumes, then went on. "He loves all kinds of puzzles. Logic games, riddles, you name it. Like this," she said, reaching out for some papers on the top of one of the folders. She flipped through them, then handed Chuck a photo. "That's a puzzle box. We found it in his hotel room when we were searching for the Fulcrum agent list. Bryce and I have spent the last day and a half trying to figure out what the combination is, so we can see if the list is inside, but we have no idea of how to solve it."

"Yeah, Jill mentioned that about LaFleur-his love of puzzles, I mean," Chuck said, wiping his mouth on a napkin. He pulled the photo close, squinting a little. Sarah passed him a magnifying glass, and he gave her a quick smile before taking another look.

"It kinda looks like a Fibonacci sequence to me . . . I'm surprised Bryce didn't catch that, being an economics major and all," Chuck mused.

"What's a Fibonacci sequence? I was an econ major in name only," Sarah asked, leaning in to look at the photo.

"Well, Fibonacci didn't come up with it, he's just the one who gets the credit for it," Chuck said. "It's the idea that you take a number, and add the previous number in the sequence to it, and the result is the next number in the sequence. So you start with one, and then you get two, then three, and so on."

She nodded and looked at him. "You know, LaFleur is scheduled to attend a banquet tomorrow night. Jill should be accompanying him. We could break into his room and solve the puzzle box. That's the only place the list could be."

"And once we have the list . . ." Chuck said, moving closer to her and sliding an arm around her waist, "no more dating Jill."

"Exactly," Sarah said with a smile, giving him a small, closed-lip kiss.

Chuck pouted. "That's all I get?"

"Until the Reuben wears off or you brush your teeth, yep," Sarah said with a grin.

"Fine," Chuck said, pulling back but grinning at her. "Let's finish lunch and start prepping with Bryce."

"Sounds good," Sarah said, taking a sip of water just as Chuck's phone chimed with an incoming text alert.

He pulled his phone out, read the message, then sighed. "No can do. Jill just asked me out to dinner tomorrow. I guess LaFleur told her she didn't need to go to the dinner."

"Well . . . Bryce and I can try the Fibonacci sequence to solve the puzzle while LaFleur's out of his room tomorrow night," Sarah said, trying not to sound too disappointed. After all, if they recovered the list, Chuck could break up with Jill and everything would be back to normal. Or as normal as it was for two engaged spies.

As usual, Chuck read between the lines. He reached out and stroked her hair. "It's almost over, baby. I promise."

"You're the one with the really hard job," Sarah said, still leaning into his hand. "I just have to-"

"You have to watch. That's a lot harder than anything I do," Chuck said, his eyes gazing into hers.

Sarah looked at him. Saw how tired he looked from juggling two lives. Saw how hard he was working to do this job, to make this nearly-impossible mission end successfully. And she just fell in love with him all over again, as sappy and unrealistic as that sounded.

Getting up from her chair, Sarah sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around him. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said softly, rubbing her back.

"Have I mentioned how glad I'll be when this assignment is over?"

"You may have talked about it once or twice," Chuck said, resting his hand on her back. He took a deep breath and Sarah could feel him tense up slightly. Lifting her head, she looked at him.

"Um . . . this is probably a really bad time to bring this up, but . . . Jill has been dropping hints about wanting to go away for a 'romantic weekend'." Chuck's voice was hesitant and his expression was very, very worried.

She had often heard the expression "seeing red" but this was the first time it had ever happened to her. A veil of scarlet fell over her eyes and she started to sweat. Her hands itched with the desire to find Jill and tear her limb from limb. It was one thing to have to give up time with Chuck. To know that he was smiling his special smile at another woman, that he was kissing someone else. But to have him gone for a whole weekend, to have to possibly do more than kissing-

"Sarah? Hey, Sarah, calm down . . ."

The panic in Chuck's voice made her come back to herself with a thump. She looked at him and swallowed as she felt the haze recede. "I . . . sorry," she said hesitantly, lowering her head.

"I don't want to do it, Sarah," he said, his voice full of conviction. "That is definitely a last-resort kind of thing. Because I can't see how I could get through that weekend without doing something I will not do."

She licked her lips. "What's that?"

Chuck's eyes didn't waver from hers. "Cheat on you."

"I know you wouldn't do it unless there was a mission-"

"No," Chuck interrupted. "Not even for a mission. Just kissing Jill makes me feel sick to my stomach. Anything more and I'd puke."

If she tried to respond to his utterly wonderful, sweet, Chuck-like words, she'd crash and burn. So she just wrapped her arms around his neck and held him with everything she had.

He whispered in her ear and rubbed her back, soothing away her fears. No, not fears . . . sadness. Sadness that they had to go through this, sadness that they weren't married yet. Because after everything they had been through together, all the barriers and missteps, it felt wrong that they weren't married yet.

Sitting in his lap and hugging him as hard as she could, Sarah told herself that it was time to find the strength one more time. To persevere in the face of adversity for just a little longer. They nearly had Fulcrum in their grasp, and as soon as they had that agent list, she would be calling Graham and making arrangements for when she and Chuck could take their accrued leave and use it for their wedding and honeymoon.

She wasn't going to let anyone or anything stop her from marrying this man.

Taking a few deep breaths, she loosened her arms around him and sat up straight. "I think we need to finish lunch so I can talk to Bryce about dealing with that puzzle box." She gently stroked Chuck's hair. "Let's get the job done, baby."

He nodded, giving her a hopeful smile. "Let's get the job done."

Even though she was tempted to stay on his lap, Sarah made herself move back to her chair. As she chewed on her sandwich, she looked at the photo of the puzzle box again, doing her best to think like Chuck would. To spot hidden patterns, to have those sudden leaps of logic that seemed so obvious once he explained things.

She would do whatever it took to keep Chuck from having to spend a weekend with Jill Roberts.

XXX

With a deep sigh, Sarah leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. When she was in training, she had heard older agents talk about jinxes: missions that seemed cursed from the start. As a young agent, she had always assumed it was just superstition. But now? Now, she totally believed in curses.

Because this mission was truly jinxed.

Six hours before the banquet that LaFleur was set to attend, giving Sarah and Bryce a window to enter his hotel room and hopefully gain Fulcrum's agent list, the scientist was murdered. With the possibility of losing the puzzle box to the LAPD's shoddy evidence handling, not to mention having to reveal their presence to law enforcement, they had made the call to break into LaFleur's sealed hotel room.

The only thing that had worked was opening the puzzle box and finding a USB drive inside. Taking the drive, they managed to get out without being detected. But when they got back to the office . . .

Bryce slammed his hand against the desk. "Damn it. It's encrypted."

"That's to be expected, though," Sarah said. She turned in her chair and picked up her phone. "I'll let Chuck know and we can start running the decryption program."

"Let's just hope it's not a tough one to crack," Bryce said. "Otherwise, Chuck and Jill, going away for a weekend . . ." He looked at her and shrugged. "You know."

Sarah nodded. "Yeah, I know," she said softly. "At least we've got the list. We're nearly there."

Ever since then, all they could do was sit and watch the decryption program work. Chuck came in later that night, after Bryce had gone home for the evening, and made a few tweaks. But he didn't look hopeful.

"It's a pretty tough code," he said, looking up from the video screens. "It could take days."

"You should start moving towards breaking up with Jill," Sarah said. "We've got the list and LaFleur is dead; there's no need to maintain the contact any further."

Chuck looked thoughtful. "I don't know . . ." When Sarah gaped at him, he quickly said, "Not because I have feelings for her or anything! No, it's . . . I've just got a niggle about her."

"A niggle?" Sarah asked, sitting down next to Chuck. She didn't want him to keep hunches from her because of this weird, potentially hurtful situation.

"Yeah . . . I can't explain it, but it's like-this isn't about someone trying to make it work with an ex. She's way more interested in the computer projects I'm working on, what kind of business I want to set up, things like that. She used to get bored if I talked too much about hardware in college-now she can't get enough." Chuck shook his head. "Maybe she's changed, but . . . it's just weird."

She nibbled a little on her lower lip as she thought this over. "What do you think it means?"

"I don't know," he said, running a hand through his hair. "It's definitely got me on edge. But until I can figure it out, I don't know if I should break up with Jill. I don't know how she'd react and that makes me nervous."

He wasn't the only one nervous now. Sarah reached out and rested her hand on his forearm, just above his watch. "I don't think you should discount this feeling, Chuck. In fact . . . maybe you should take some precautions."

"Like what?" he said, shifting so he could take her hand.

"Always use your car, not hers, when you see her . . . make the arrangements for any date yourself . . ." Sarah said, ticking off each item with a finger. "And maybe use a GPS tracker watch. We've got some in the supply room."

"So I can send a signal if anything goes wrong and I can't communicate with you or Bryce," Chuck said.

"Exactly," Sarah said. She gave him a small smile. "You're pretty valuable to the CIA, you know. They wouldn't want to lose you."

"Somehow, I don't think they're the only interested party here," Chuck said, returning her smile and leaning in to kiss her lightly.

She smiled against his lips. "You might be right," Sarah said as she pulled back. "Let's get you that watch. You're seeing Jill tomorrow night, right?"

Chuck nodded. "Yeah, we're having dinner at a Mexican place we've been to before. Dos Amigos-you know it."

"Yeah," Sarah said, standing up. "You set up the decryption program to alert us if it cracks the code?"

"All set-we'll get text messages when it's broken the code."

There was a mild sense of relief at knowing they were so close to the end. But it didn't make the time pass any faster. Sarah spent the next day trying not to watch the video screens as the servers worked on decrypting the USB drive.

"Nothing yet?" Bryce asked, carrying in a bag with their dinner. He glanced at the screens as he unpacked the bag.

Sarah shook her head as she took her salad from him. "Hopefully it's not too much longer."

"Nothing you'd like better than to storm into the restaurant that Chuck and Jill are at and take your man back?" Bryce asked, grinning at her.

"The idea has crossed my mind," Sarah admitted sheepishly.

Bryce snickered as he sat down and took a bite of his sandwich. "So you two are going to get married once Fulcrum is done?"

"That's the plan," Sarah said, sipping from her bottle of water.

"Good plan," Bryce said. "How's the wedding planning coming?"

"Not bad. We've been-"

A beep from the video screen interrupted Sarah and made them both turn to look at them. A large red box was displayed on the screen. _FILE DECRYPTED. OPEN? Y/N_

"It's about time!" Sarah said, pushing aside her food and grabbing a pad of paper and a pen. She nodded to Bryce, who opened the file and then sat back down, watching as the screen filled with photos and accompanying personnel files.

"We'll need to cross-check against CIA, NSA, and military intelligence records, to see who are double agents," Bryce said, grabbing a laptop. "I've got that."

"Okay," Sarah said, navigating through the files.

It was painstaking work, and also eye-opening, due to the number of agents Fulcrum still had in its ranks. It wasn't until an hour later, when Sarah flicked to the next image and felt the color drain from her face.

Because there, on the screen, was an image of Jill Roberts.

Even as she reeled from the shock, Sarah read the details in her file. Recruited in 2003 at Stanford University; assigned to bioterrorism group headed by Guy LaFleur; based in Palo Alto.

"Chuck," she whispered.

Just saying his name was enough to spur her into action. She grabbed Bryce's laptop and pulled up the tracking software for the watch Chuck was wearing. At the same time, she pulled out her phone and pressed the contact for Chuck.

"Hi, this is Chuck. Sorry, I'm probably playing video games. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I've dealt with this boss."

Sarah swallowed and tried to sound calm. "Chuck, hi, it's me. If you're with Jill, I need you to not leave your location. Stay put. She . . . your niggle was right." She quickly hung up, seeing that Bryce had returned to the room. In her shock, she hadn't even realized he had left.

He set down a range of weaponry: extra handguns, a tranq pistol, handcuffs and a few smoke bombs. "Are they still at the restaurant?"

As she looked at the map displayed on the laptop's screen, Sarah was reminded of the jinxed mission superstition. "No . . . they're moving."

Bryce frowned. "Then let's load up."

She nodded and closed the laptop, tucking it under her arm as she fished out her car keys. She tossed them to Bryce, who caught them as he stuffed an extra gun in the back of his jeans. Gathering the last of their supplies, they were in Sarah's Porsche within two minutes. Bryce gunned the engine and pulled out of the parking garage with a roar.

Opening up the laptop, Sarah began giving Bryce directions. "They're driving west on the 101. Nearly to Thousand Oaks."

"Gotcha," Bryce said, driving fast.

Sarah took her phone and tried Chuck again, only to get his voicemail for a second time. She hung up without leaving a message and sent him a text. _be careful around jill. on our way._

"How fast are they moving? Because with the head start Jill's gotten, it's gonna be hard to catch up with them," Bryce said.

Checking the map, Sarah felt like maybe they had caught a break. "They're barely moving fifteen miles an hour."

The next forty-five minutes felt endless. As the gap between them and Chuck grew smaller and smaller, Sarah gripped her phone so tightly that she was surprised she hadn't shattered it.

There had to be more she could do than sit here, wasn't there? She didn't even know if Chuck had gotten her messages, if he knew what danger he was in. They could be on a wild-goose chase or Chuck could be unconscious or even-

Closing her eyes, she told herself to stop thinking like that. Chuck couldn't be dead. She . . . there had to be a way that she would know if something like that had happened to him.

She took a deep breath and looked at the screen. "We-we're almost on top of them." She craned her neck, searching for Chuck's car, hoping he had remembered her advice and not gotten into Jill's car.

At the same moment she spotted his car, signaling to merge onto the upcoming exit ramp, the small red dot on the laptop's screen showed Chuck's tracker doing the same thing.

"He's taking the exit! Get over, get over!"

Bryce cursed and swerved the wheel to the right, cutting across traffic amid the blaring of car horns. Sarah pushed the laptop aside and checked her gun. "It looks like Chuck's driving," she said. "And they're stopping. There!" she said, pointing as the Prius turned into the parking lot of a gas station and mini-mart. Scrambling with her phone, she quickly called for a CIA retrieval team. Whatever the situation's outcome, Jill had to be arrested as an enemy agent. But Sarah wasn't about to let anything happen to Chuck, even if it meant putting a bullet between Jill the lying traitor's eyes.

"Right," Bryce said, pulling the Porsche into a spot two spaces away from the Prius. Jill was sitting in the passenger seat, her back to the window. Chuck was slowly getting out of the car, moving carefully. When he saw the Porsche-and Bryce and Sarah inside it-his eyes widened for a millisecond, then he quickly turned and walked into the mini-mart.

Sarah had never seen so much emotion in Chuck's eyes: anger, worry, and overwhelming relief. She needed to talk to him.

"Jill doesn't know me," Sarah said quickly, her mind shifting into strategy mode. "I'll follow Chuck and slip him a gun. You stay here and watch Jill."

"If she makes me-"

"She'll think it's a coincidence," Sarah said, grabbing the tranq gun from the backseat and adding it to the gun pressing against her back, under her t-shirt. "This is how we're doing it."

He didn't look very happy, but he stayed behind the wheel, holding his gun below the window and pointing towards Jill.

Stepping out of the car, it took all her willpower to move casually towards the store, instead of at a run. Once she was inside the mini-mart, she ambled along the aisles, slowly coming to stand next to Chuck. She couldn't touch him, since they were in sight of Jill. She couldn't give away who Chuck was to her, even though part of her wanted to grab him and never let him go.

Acting fascinated by the nutritional info on a bag of Doritos, she spoke softly out of the corner of her mouth. "Jill's Fulcrum."

Chuck set down the package of Twinkies he was holding and picked up some Ho-Hos. "I know," he said, sounding shocked and upset. "I flashed on a text message she got."

"I'm sorry, Chuck," she said quietly.

"She wanted to recruit me," Chuck said. "She threatened me . . . and she knows that everything has been a lie. She knows about us. She's pretty angry with me."

"Bryce has her covered. We need to arrest her," Sarah said, trying to be as supportive as she could. "I have a tranq gun under my shirt."

He took a deep breath and nonchalantly looked around before sliding his hand under her top. She could feel him take her Smith & Wesson and she looked up at him in surprise.

"Jill said that if I didn't come with her, they were going to find you and kill you," Chuck said, his eyes bright with anger and determination. "I've got this."

"Okay," she said quietly. "I've got your back."

As if he didn't care about Jill watching, Chuck leaned down and kissed her softly. "You always do," he said against her lips before pulling away and walking to the doors of the mini-mart.

Sarah took a deep breath and followed him, drawing out the tranq gun once she was out of the store. She could see and hear what Chuck was saying as he stood by the car, holding her gun on his ex-girlfriend. Bryce had stepped out of the Porsche, training his own gun on Jill, too.

"I would have let you go, Jill," Chuck said, his voice shaking just a little. "Because you seemed serious about wanting to get out. But then you threatened Sarah and that changed everything." He paused and cocked the gun. "You're under arrest."

End, Chapter 7


	9. Chapter 8

Chuck had never been so glad that it was Friday. Because he had every intention of going straight home and sleeping for the whole weekend. And when he wasn't asleep, he was going to stay in bed and make up to his fiancée the three weeks of heartache she had gone through.

After they attended the briefing with Director Graham that he had just been informed about. The one that was scheduled for nine a.m. on a Saturday.

When the CIA team had finally finished questioning Jill before taking her away, Chuck felt like a load had been taken off his shoulders. He didn't have to pretend anymore. He could go back to his real life, with Sarah. He could spend more time with Bryce, he could fix things with Morgan and talk to Ellie. And yes, there were limits on what he could talk about with Morgan and Ellie, since he still wasn't sure about telling them the truth. But at least he could go back to keeping only one thing from them, instead of having to come up with excuses for why he wasn't around.

Blowing out a breath, Chuck got up from his seat on the bumper of his car and looked around. Bryce had agreed to drive Sarah's car back to LA, following the CIA team and making sure that Jill reached the detention facility. Sarah had said she needed a few minutes to "freshen up" but that was over fifteen minutes ago, during the phone call with Director Graham congratulating them on finding the agent list and setting up tomorrow's briefing.

Stepping into the mini-mart, he headed over to the bathrooms and knocked on the door marked "Ladies". He lightly tapped on the door. "Sarah?" he said quietly.

Her voice sounded a bit raspy when she answered after a long moment of silence. "Yeah?"

"Everyone's gone," he said, pressing the palm of his hand against the door. "Do you-do you want to come out?"

He thought he could hear her sniff before the sound of the door unlocking made him take a step back.

Sarah pushed open the door, her face a bit red and blotchy. But her jaw was set and her eyes were determined. With that look on her face, Chuck knew she wasn't ready to talk. Not yet. So he just held his hand out to her. "Ready to go home?"

When she took his hand, her grip was intense, even for Sarah. Once her fingers were wrapped around his-just this side of painful-she nodded. "Yeah. More than ready."

"Do you want anything for the road?" he asked, gesturing to the shelves and cooler cases.

She shook her head. "No. I just want to go home."

"Okay," he said, leading her out to his car. He held open the door for her, then slid behind the wheel. After he had pulled out onto the highway, he reached out and took her hand again, holding it as he drove.

They were nearly back to Burbank when Sarah took a deep breath. "I'm okay. Really." She looked over at him. "I should be happy, you know? And I am. Because we've got the Fulcrum agent list. So Fulcrum can be totally wiped out."

"And we can get married," he said softly, squeezing her hand.

Sarah rested her free hand on top of his. "Yeah."

He glanced at her. "You know, it's okay to feel . . . weird. Weird and overwhelmed and uncertain. About the last few weeks, about finally seeing the end of Fulcrum, anything." He laced his fingers through hers.

"I know that," Sarah said. "I mean, I've learned that since I met you. That emotions are messy." She gave him a weak smile and shrugged a little.

"That makes you sound like you were some kind of robot. And that wasn't you," Chuck said. "You had plenty of emotions."

She huffed out a sound that was part-laugh, part-groan. "I can't believe your ex-girlfriend was a Fulcrum agent. That's just . . ."

"A crazy coincidence that could only happen to Chuck Bartowski? Yup, that fact has already crossed my mind." He grinned at her.

Her thumb rubbed against his hand. "The briefing tomorrow will be interesting. I'm sure Graham will have a lot of questions about why we didn't know Jill was Fulcrum."

"I knew. Niggle, remember?" So maybe he was being a bit silly. Not taking this discussion as seriously as he could. But lately, everything had been serious. They needed a bit of fun.

"How could I forget?" Sarah said, shifting in her seat and lying her head on his shoulder. She squeezed his hand.

Chuck turned his head and brushed his lips over her hair. "Yeah, tomorrow's gonna suck a little. But tonight . . . let's go home and talk about wedding dates."

She let out a soft sigh. "That sounds perfect."

With a smile, he looked at the road, driving towards their apartment. And if he was hoping that they could fit in something other than talking before they needed to go to sleep, he didn't think anyone could blame him.

He had just pulled into a parking space when his phone rang. Looking at the display, he saw that it was Ellie. "Hey, sis, gimme a second," he said, answering the phone and then covering the mouthpiece.

"Okay, Chuck," she said. Ellie's voice sounded worried and annoyed, so Chuck looked over at Sarah.

"Why don't you go on upstairs and relax some? I'll be up as soon as I'm done talking to Ellie."

Sarah nodded. "I'll call for a pizza, too." She kissed his cheek. "Say hi to Ellie for me."

"I will," he said, waiting until Sarah had gotten out of the car to remove his hand from his phone. "Sorry, El, we had just gotten home from work."

"Work, work, work-that's all you do. Meanwhile, I keep asking Sarah for info about the wedding, and she never has anything." Ellie sighed. "I'm sorry, I know I said I'd back off, but it's been nearly two months and it feels like you guys are no closer."

Chuck took a deep breath. Ellie sounded like she was inches away from having a full-on conniption. His sister was a lot more goal-oriented than he was-and her relationship with Devon was a lot different from his with Sarah. Add in their shared stubbornness, and it wasn't surprising that neither of them felt like their sibling was understanding them.

"Actually, we just picked a location a few weeks ago. And I think we'll be ready to set a date soon," Chuck said, starting with what Ellie was more interested in hearing. "It's definitely something we'll be talking about this weekend." In-between all the ways he was going to show Sarah how much he loved her, that is.

"Really?" Ellie asked. "You're actually talking?"

"Yeah, we are," Chuck said, getting out of the car and leaning against it as he talked to his sister. "This isn't like last year, when we were having problems. Believe me, we want to get married. It's just work getting in the way, mostly. And because we want to do this right. Make the wedding be exactly what we want."

"And doing that takes time," Ellie said, sounding calmer.

"Yeah. We don't want to rush. And after all, this is the only time I'll ever be engaged. It's different from just dating. So I wanna enjoy it." Chuck smiled a little. "Okay, sis?"

"God, you both must think I'm so annoying," Ellie said. "Like a mother-of-the-bridezilla."

"We don't think you're annoying," he reassured her. "And honestly, you're the closest thing to a mom that either of us have, really. So it's nice, even if it can be kinda . . ." Chuck's voice trailed off as he searched for a word that was honest but not too honest.

Ellie laughed. "Okay, okay. I'll back off. And I mean it this time."

"Uh-huh," Chuck said, grinning.

"Hey, I still have plenty of blackmail stories I haven't told Sarah yet. So watch it, buster." Ellie's voice definitely sounded lighter.

"Awwww, c'mon," he said. Chuck started walking towards the stairs up to the apartments, moving up to the third floor. "We love having your help, Ellie. You know that."

"I do," she said. "Can I blame all those years of med school and working double shifts for making me forget stuff?"

"Just as long as you're not my doctor, sure," Chuck said with a grin. "I'll call you soon and we'll have dinner. Just you and me. After all, Mother's Day is coming up."

She sighed softly. "Yeah, it is."

"And just because you're married, and I'm going to be married soon, it doesn't change what Mother's Day means to me," Chuck said, walking into the apartment and nodding to Sarah, giving her the 'one more minute' gesture.

"I know, Chuck . . . it hasn't changed for me, either." Ellie paused. "I love you, Chuck."

"Love you, too, Ellie," he said, smiling softly. "I'll talk to you soon."

"Bye," Ellie said quietly before hanging up.

Sarah gave him a small smile. "Hi. Pizza's on its way." She paused, then asked curiously, "Mother's Day is more than two months away."

"I know," Chuck said, kissing her cheek. "But we weren't talking about the actual Mother's Day. More the special Bartowski family version of it."

He could see her confusion deepen, so Chuck started rubbing her arms. "Our Mother's Day is about the day our mom left. The day Ellie and I learned to lean on each other."

He said it matter-of-factly, but he knew that Sarah could read all the shades of nuance in his words, all the years of sadness and hurt and loss. Which is why he wasn't surprised when she wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm sorry," Sarah said, kissing him softly.

Chuck kissed her back, relaxing against her. "I know. And . . . it's okay."

"No, it's not," she said, looking up at him.

"Okay, no, it's not. But we did make something good come out of it . . . we stayed together," Chuck said. "And that's what counts."

She nodded, then pulled away and took his hand. "Ellie grilling you again?"

"She should have been the one in the CIA," Chuck said, smiling a little. "She'd get terrorists to crack just by giving them her disappointed face."

"It'd work on me," Sarah said as she pulled him down on the couch with her. "But we picked the church the other week, and we can use the reception room here for the number of people we want to invite . . ."

"Which I told Ellie. So now it's just about picking a date," Chuck said, playing with Sarah's fingers.

"I actually had an idea about that . . ." Sarah said softly.

"Yeah?" Chuck asked, looking at her.

"August 20."

Chuck searched his mind, then shook his head. "I give up. What's August 20?"

Sarah's smile was equal parts shy and amused. "It's the day that Project Omaha training began. When we saw each other again. I thought about the actual day we met, but that's only six weeks away and I didn't think we could get a wedding plann-oomph!"

Her words were cut off when Chuck kissed her. Because he couldn't believe that Sarah had remembered that date, because it was so perfect to remember when they had met each other at Project Omaha and got a second chance. One that neither of them realized they wanted.

"I-I take it you approve?" Sarah asked, a little breathlessly when he pulled away from her lips.

He nodded eagerly. "Yes. Yes. Full approval of that date. Because it's perfect."

"Great," Sarah said, smiling at him as she curled in against him. "We can start getting everything arranged, then."

"Yeah. But first, we're going to relax this weekend," Chuck said, settling his legs on the coffee table. "I missed you while I was fake-dating Jill, and I don't want us to spend the whole weekend doing wedding stuff when we could do other things."

She arched an eyebrow at him, smirking a little. "And just what 'other things' did you have in mind?"

"Let me show you," he said, leaning in to kiss her slowly and softly, pouring all his love for her into the kiss.

They stopped long enough to pay the pizza delivery guy, but when they finally got around to eating the pizza, it was very, very cold.

XXX

Chuck's mind was full of plans when he walked into the office with Sarah the next morning. After the briefing, they had errands to run, and maybe they would grab some lunch while they were out. Then there would be cuddling on the couch and watching a movie or two. For dinner, he wanted to take Sarah to the Armenian restaurant they had visited when they had first moved to LA last year. Tomorrow would be about fitting in a workout, maybe some sparring, before they did some wedding planning.

It was a lot, he knew, but once Monday rolled around they would be back to work, preparing for a life after Fulcrum. He wanted to enjoy some time with Sarah before that happened.

Bryce was already in the office, sipping from a paper cup of coffee. "Morning," he said, rubbing a hand through his hair. He gestured to a carrier holding two more cups of coffee. "Thought you guys could use some coffee, too."

"Thanks, Bryce," Sarah said, picking up the cup with her name on it and taking a sip. "My car looks undamaged. Thanks for driving it back last night."

"No problem," Bryce said. "It was fun to drive it."

"I didn't get to drive Sarah's car until six months after she had it," Chuck said, tossing the empty carrier tray after he plucked his coffee from it. "I guess you two are friends now."

Sarah smirked a little. "I guess so," she said, looking at Bryce.

"So I can borrow your car again sometime?" Bryce asked as he took another sip of coffee.

"Nope," Sarah said with a grin.

Chuck snickered, enjoying seeing Sarah put Bryce in his place. It was something that Chuck hadn't seen happen very frequently over the years: a woman who couldn't be charmed by Bryce's baby blues.

Fortunately, Bryce took it well. He just grinned and gestured towards the monitors. "Are we ready to go?"

"Yeah, I think so," Chuck said, turning to the audio visual remote in the center of the conference table and hitting the button to connect them with Graham's office.

"Good morning, agents." Director Graham's voice was deeper than normal. "First off, good work on acquiring the Fulcrum agent list. It's a testament to your hard work that we've already captured one of the agents on this list."

"Thank you, Director," Sarah said, sounding proud. "Agent Bartowski's work was critical in recovering the list. Agent Larkin provided several excellent insights into Fulcrum over the course of this operation."

"And Agent Walker was vital, too," Chuck said quickly, not wanting Sarah to be left out of the applause.

"All three of you will receive commendations. Agent Larkin, you'll be pleased to know that your file will show that the months prior to joining Agents Bartowski and Walker, you were on a 77C assignment, at my request."

Out of the corner of his eye, Chuck could see the momentary flash of relief cross Bryce's face, before he nodded and thanked the director. It was a relief for Chuck, too. It meant Bryce was cleared from the CIA's charge of defecting to Fulcrum. With Graham's show of support, Bryce could get a new assignment that was a lot better than the Falklands or Toronto.

Graham leaned forward, his hands folded on his desk. "For now, we will be moving slowly against Fulcrum, beginning with an analysis of their agent list to identify the first targets to apprehend. We don't want to tip our hand too soon, for fear of sending the roaches into the darkness."

While that made sense, Chuck read something in Graham's voice, something he was leaving unsaid. He glanced at Sarah, who looked as uneasy as he felt. Not really, of course, since Sarah did her best to stay stone-faced in briefings, but if he could pick up on what she was feeling right now, he knew that she felt the same as he did.

"Director, I would argue that the time for caution is over," Bryce said. "If you want to keep the roaches in the light, you've got to move quickly and get everyone, all at once."

"Such a task would require an enormous amount of coordination, done in the highest secrecy, Agent Larkin," Graham said, narrowing his eyes. "If this agent list is incomplete-"

"Is there any evidence of that, sir?" Sarah asked, her voice cool.

"Not at this time, yet our analysts are still reviewing the intelligence."

"Then I would agree with Agent Larkin," Sarah said. "Make the killing blow against Fulcrum. Stop giving them time to regroup."

The deputy director set his jaw, looking annoyed. "Fulcrum is not our only concern, agents. Slowly and systematically eliminating cells allows us a certain latitude that would permit inroads to be made against other terrorist organizations."

Chuck frowned. "Fulcrum always distinguished themselves by being lone wolves. They did everything on their own: medical support, weapons, technology . . ."

"And up until three months ago, that was true, Agent Bartowski," Graham said. "But at that time, a power struggle occurred at the very top of the organization, one that has created a new . . . complication."

Graham's words hung in the air as Chuck, Sarah and Bryce looked at each other. It was Bryce who finally said what they were all thinking. "What is this complication, Director?"

"Alexei Volkoff," Graham said heavily.

_A mushroom cloud-a plate of borscht-diagrams of AK-47s-a photo of a middle-aged man with rugged features and dark hair, labeled Alexei Volkoff-a notation that Volkoff was at the top of the FBI Most Wanted Terrorists list-a mushroom cloud_

There was a lot of information in that flash. It took Chuck a moment to recover and then pick up the thread of the conversation.

" . . . Volkoff leveraged his role as an arms dealer to gain increasing trust within Fulcrum. They had lost one of their weapons suppliers and desperately needed arms; Volkoff gave them exceptional rates and access. But it was all a play to take over the group, and thanks to his vast wealth, Volkoff has been pumping new life into Fulcrum."

"So Volkoff is running Fulcrum now?" Sarah asked slowly, as if trying to fit a new piece into a puzzle.

"Not officially. There's been some chatter about a Director of Fulcrum-that individual would seem to be the true boss. But with his ties to Fulcrum, Volkoff is too important to be ignored. And that involvement gives us an opportunity."

Beside him, Chuck could almost feel Bryce tense up. He felt the same way; it didn't seem like Graham was telling them all this as a reward for getting the Fulcrum agent list.

Suddenly, Chuck felt Sarah's hand on his hip. He looked at her in surprise, since physical contact during briefings was something they rarely did. She was still looking straight ahead, so he quickly turned his head back to face Graham as he took her hand. Her fingers were cold.

"It has been agreed that we will select an agent to send undercover to Volkoff Industries. This agent will represent themselves as a Fulcrum agent, one who has grown dissatisfied with the organization and wishes to change sides. With the Fulcrum agent list, we can create a personnel file for this agent and provide further bona fides, but it will require time to establish the agent on Volkoff's radar. This won't work unless Volkoff is intrigued by the undercover operative. He is a very mercurial man," Graham said.

Chuck could care less about Alexei Volkoff's personality at this moment. He was much more worried about how cagey Graham was being. The assignment he was outlining sounded incredibly risky, almost suicidal. Such a deep cover mission would exert tremendous stress on the agent assigned and could drag on for months-if not years.

And Graham wouldn't be explaining all this, giving them such detail, if he hadn't already decided to select one of them for the mission. And Chuck had a bad feeling about who might be picked.

He looked over at Bryce, trying to show him as much support as possible, when Graham said quietly. "Agent Walker? I would like to speak with you privately."

Sarah's fingers spasmed against his, clutching his hand. Chuck whipped his head to face the screen, feeling the color drain from his face. "W-what? You want Sarah to do this?"

"Agent Walker has the most experience of the three of you and she has received training in deep cover operations. Additionally, Volkoff would be less suspicious of a female agent, even though his second-in-command is rumored to be a woman."

There was something about Graham's voice that said the decision was made. That arguing would be pointless. But Chuck wasn't about to let this happen. Not when Sarah didn't want it.

Or did she? After all, before they met, this was exactly the kind of assignment she wanted: long-term undercover work. Maybe she . . .

Chuck looked at Sarah. Her face was white as snow, making her eyes look even larger and more blue than normal. And scared.

She was scared. Not in a 'facing an exciting challenge' kind of way. Scared and desperate to find a way out.

"Director, surely there are agents more qualified than I am." There was the tiniest hesitation, the slightest tremble in her voice. That just confirmed it for him. Chuck squeezed her hand tightly, trying to tell her that he would stand by her, whatever she decided.

"This is a great opportunity for you, Sarah," Graham said, his voice equal parts cajoling and disapproving. "You shouldn't dismiss it out of hand, not without hearing me through."

"This is too much to ask of her," Chuck said, taking a step forward. "It's practically a death sentence!"

If this was a cartoon, smoke would be starting to come out of Graham's ears. "Agent Bartowski, the Central Intelligence Agency is not in the habit of throwing away the lives of its agents. The successful completion of this assignment would yield intelligence of incalculable value."

How could he sit there, so confident and so sure, and ignore the very real possibility that he was sending Sarah to her death? She had always followed orders, put the CIA first, and look what it was getting her!

"Is this some kind of revenge on us, for wanting to get married?" Chuck asked, glaring at Graham. He could feel Sarah's hand on his arm, trying to make him face her, but he was too angry and too determined to let her try and cool him down. "If you think I'm going to let you punish Sarah because you can't hurt me-"

"Agent Larkin, please help Agent Bartowski find somewhere else to be while I talk to Agent Walker," Graham snapped, cutting off Chuck's threat.

Bryce rested a hand on Chuck's shoulder. "It's not time to burn your bridges, Chuck. Not yet."

He glared at Bryce, only for Sarah to turn her back to the video screen and stand in front of him. She took his face in her hands and made him look at her. "Go with Bryce," she said, her voice wavering. "Let me talk to Graham and then I'll find you."

She hesitated, biting on her lower lip. "Please, baby," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

For once, he didn't want to do what Sarah asked. Chuck wanted to tell Graham to screw his offer, screw the CIA, and screw him. Then he wanted to take Sarah's hand and get out of here and-

And what? Go to ground, trying to escape the clutches of one of the world's foremost intelligence agencies? Chuck couldn't fool himself. They might be able to run for a while, but if they ran, their lives would be over. He'd never see his sister again. They'd never be able to stop running. And when they got caught . . . Chuck knew he would never see Sarah again.

His shoulders were shaking. He knew his face was screwed up with anger and heartbreak. He felt disgusted with himself, like less of a man, for giving in like this.

But Sarah had never asked him for anything like this. And he loved her so much, loved her enough to do whatever she asked of him. Even if it broke his heart, just as much as it broke hers. Because he could see that in her eyes.

Somehow, he jerked his head once, nodding. Bryce, his hands gentle on his shoulder and arm, led him out of the conference room and into an office. And once he was away from Sarah, Chuck slumped into a chair and let himself break down.

XXX

It was an endless, agonizing hour before Sarah walked into the office. Her face was tear-stained, both pale and red. Chuck didn't like thinking about Sarah crying in front of Graham. Although, knowing her, she had waited until after they had finished talking and then found some place to weep in private.

Bryce stood up from his chair and rested a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "I thought it would be me," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, Sarah."

The fact that she tried to smile at Bryce, tried to reassure him, made Chuck's heart break that much more. Because Sarah really was the perfect choice: she could handle the stress and strain, all the hardships she would face.

But God, he didn't want her to go.

"Thank you, Bryce," she said softly. "Could you-I need to talk to Chuck."

He nodded, and to Chuck's surprise, hugged Sarah. It seemed like Bryce whispered something in her ear, and she nodded and pulled back, giving him another weak smile. Then, with a look back and forth between Chuck and Sarah, Bryce slipped out of the room and left them alone.

Swallowing, Chuck sat up in his chair, trying to think of something to say. Something that would make this easier on her, something that would let her start the mission without having to worry about him.

Sarah walked over and pulled over another chair. Her knees nearly touched his as she sat in front of him, her hands in her lap as she gazed at him. It was like she was trying to memorize him. So Chuck took the time to do the same, to always remember Sarah at this moment.

Today, she was wearing one of her standard Saturday outfits: a black shirt with a butterfly pattern down her spine, dark jeans, and boots. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, in soft blonde waves that made her look younger than she actually was. The only jewelry she wore was her engagement ring.

There should be a word that better described her than beautiful. Because beautiful was trite and cliched and ordinary. Sarah Walker wasn't ordinary. There was all her strength and intelligence and determination, her heart and her kindness and sense of humor. She was beautiful on the outside, but even more so on the inside.

And he could lose her.

Chuck rubbed his hands against his jeans. His voice cracked slightly when he spoke. "W-what did Graham say?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm going to start with some showy missions, things that should catch Volkoff's attention. Once that happens, I'll need to gain his trust, rise in the ranks so I can access the kind of information that the CIA needs. Do . . . do whatever he wants me to do."

Part of him wanted to ask what she meant. Wanted her to spell things out for him. But honestly, he knew what she meant. And he didn't want to put her through the wringer like that. Shifting a little in his chair, he tried to stay focused on the mission parameters. "What kind of support will you have? I mean, what if you get in some kind of situation and you need help?"

It was a stupid question. One he shouldn't ask, just like he shouldn't ask for more info on her missions. She would be undercover, deep undercover; that meant she wouldn't be able to get help from the CIA without risking blowing her cover. But he just wanted to know for sure. Wanted to know she wouldn't be completely on her own.

"I'll get a watch that has an emergency beacon and a button that permits short Morse code messages."

"Really?" Chuck asked, leaning forward. "So-so we can talk? A little?"

"Um, no," Sarah said, looking down at her lap. "It's one way only. I can send a message out, but I can't receive messages. And any message I send will go straight to the CIA."

"But-but that's good, at least." He reached out and lightly rested his hand on her knee. "You'll know you're not alone out there."

She slowly lifted her eyes to his. And his attempts to cheer her up, to give her confidence, suddenly seemed like nothing. Because how could he make this better? How could this be anything but an awful situation?

Without a word, Sarah got out of her chair and moved into his lap, burying her face in his neck and holding him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in against him.

Her shoulders shook a little and he could feel her breathing jerkily against his neck. Chuck slowly rubbed her back. "It's okay, baby. It's gonna be okay."

"No, it's not," she muttered, slowly lifting her face. "We can't get married now . . . I have no idea when I'll see you again . . . and I have to leave tonight."

"What? Tonight?"

Sarah nodded. "Graham's sending a transport to pick me up in a few hours. Then I'll head to Europe."

A few hours. That was all he had left with Sarah until who knew when. Chuck took a deep breath. "Oh."

She groaned and leaned back a little, running her hands through her hair again. "I can't believe Graham is doing this. I'm not the best choice. He must be doing this under the table, playing politics-I hate this!"

The passion in her voice was somewhat unexpected. It wasn't like Sarah to vent like this.

"It really does suck," he said, taking one of her gesturing hands. "I don't understand it, either."

"Don't you?" Sarah asked, getting off his lap and beginning to pace in front of him. "When we told him we wanted to get married, that we didn't want to get split up, I should have known he wasn't taking it as well as he seemed. He's probably hoping this will make us break up, at least."

"Did you tell him that?"

"Not in so many words," Sarah said, putting her hands on her hips and looking at him. "I tried to quit."

He got to his feet so fast that his chair tipped over. "What?"

Sheepishly but almost defiantly, she said, "I told him I was going to resign from the CIA."

"No, no, baby," he said, resting his hands on her shoulders. "I wouldn't want you to do that. Not like that-not when you're angry and upset."

Sarah sighed, her shoulders slumping under his hands. "I know. I just . . . I didn't know what to do. Any argument I had, he countered. He was very ready for this conversation. He didn't just come up with this idea last night."

"So maybe he had this in his hip pocket, just waiting for the right time to spring it on us. What matters now is getting you ready for this." Chuck rubbed her shoulders, trying to massage away some of her tension. "Because you can't go like this, Sarah. All tense and upset and worried."

Her look in response to his words spoke volumes. Chuck gave her his best lopsided smile. "I know, I'm stating the obvious. But it's true." He searched her face, getting serious. "Tell me what you need from me. What can I do?"

It took her a few moments to calm down, to relax enough to think. She spoke slowly. "We . . . we need to talk about what to do about the wedding. Come up with what we'll tell anyone who asks where I am. And . . . and a solid hour of kissing."

"Just an hour?" he asked, giving her a small smile. "That would be enough for you?"

"Well, that seemed like a good place to start," she said, a small smirk on her face.

Seeing that, having her tease him a little, gave him hope. That maybe they would be okay. Chuck righted his chair and sat down, pulling her down into his lap. "First things first, the wedding. I say we keep everything as we planned."

"But how? Chuck, I don't have a wedding dress, we don't even know if the church is available on the date we picked, and there's still a hundred things to be done. And I don't want to miss out on all those things." Sarah paused, then sighed. "But I also don't want to have to wait if I finish this up quickly."

"Yes! Exactly! Let's think positive," Chuck said, resting his hands on her hips. "You're amazing, you're bound to get this done way before August 20."

She gave him a look of affectionate reproach. "There's positive and then there's delusional."

"Hush," he said, lightly kissing the tip of her nose. "And it's not like nothing will be getting done. I'll keep working on the plans and Ellie and Morgan and Bryce can help me. But anything you want me to not do, anything you want us to do together, just tell me and it can wait."

"Okay," Sarah said, shifting to rest against his chest. "Well, I'll definitely need to take care of the dress on my own. And I think you should get Ellie to help you with the flowers. But otherwise . . . I trust you."

He smiled at her. "Okay. We'll have the perfect wedding, Sarah. Because it's us, you know?" Chuck stroked her hair, gazing at her. "Okay?"

"Yeah," she said softly, nodding. She mimicked his gesture, running her fingers through his hair. "Are you going to be okay while I'm gone?"

That was a hard question to answer. How much should he tell her? Just how honest could he be in telling her how he felt?

Although really, he had never been able to hold back with her. Not from the beginning. And he wasn't about to start now.

"I am going to miss you so much," Chuck said softly. "Like, every day in a different way, and on Sunday I'll miss you in a compilation of ways. But I know you can do this, and once you're finished, you'll come back to me and we'll get married." He took her hand and rubbed his thumb against her palm.

Sarah sighed softly, her eyes fluttering shut. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, kissing the top of her head.

An easy silence fell between them as they held each other. Then Sarah shifted and kissed him slowly, her hands sliding over his chest.

"Oh. Time for kissing?" he asked against her lips.

She laughed. "Yes, Chuck. Time for kissing."

He flushed a little but leaned in to kiss her. These few hours together would have to last for a long time. Saving up these kisses and touches and moments, to have something to build his dreams around, to keep him company during the upcoming days when he wouldn't know where she was, wouldn't know what she was doing.

It didn't go too far. They didn't have to talk about it, but it didn't seem right to have a quickie in the office, acting like that would be enough for them. It wouldn't. And their connection, their relationship . . . it went deeper than sex. It was more powerful, more real, than anything in the world.

Although he really wished now that they had more time. Enough time to go home for a few hours.

Sarah sighed against his lips and slowly pulled away. Her face was flushed, her hair was messy, and she looked relaxed and peaceful. As he watched, he could see her drawing upon that peace to prepare herself. To be ready for this mission.

"Okay," she said softly. "The transport should be here soon. So, I, um . . ." She paused, playing with her engagement ring.

Chuck gazed at her. "You'll be careful, right?" He brushed her hair back. "Like, incredibly over-protectively careful?"

With a slow, emphatic nod, Sarah looked at him. "I will. There's just . . ." Slowly and haltingly, Sarah pulled her engagement ring off and held it out to him.

Frowning, Chuck looked at the ring, then at her.

"I can't take this with me, Chuck. It's too dangerous. And if I lost it . . . I would never forgive myself." When he didn't take it, she reached down and picked up his hand, her actions very deliberate as she placed the ring in the center of his palm and closed his fingers around it. "I know you'll keep it safe for me, until I come back, when you'll put it back on my finger."

It was on the tip of his tongue to protest. To tell her that she needed something to hold onto while she was gone. Something that would let her see what she was fighting for. But . . . but Sarah never wore her ring when she was on a mission. It was like a ritual for her, a way to mark the shift from Agent Walker to Sarah.

Perhaps this was something she needed to leave behind in order to do this job. Where she was going, she wouldn't be Sarah. She wouldn't even be Agent Walker. She would be some new person and such a tangible connection to her real life would just hold her down. Make a difference when seconds counted.

And most importantly, Sarah looked like she couldn't handle it if he argued with her. It was up to him to make sure she was ready, and making her take her engagement ring with her would just hurt her.

He nodded. "O-okay," he said, holding tightly to the ring. "I'll do it. But-but you have to promise to come back so you can wear it again."

"I don't want to make a promise I might not be able to keep, Chuck," she whispered.

"I don't care," he said, cupping her face in his free hand. "I just need you to promise. Okay? Please, Sarah, promise," he said, ready to beg. But instead, she just nodded.

"I promise," she said, leaning in and kissing him softly. Kissing him like it was for the last time.

A heavy knock fell on the door to the office. Through the door, Bryce called out, "Sarah? The transport is here."

Sarah pulled back and wiped her hand over her face. "Okay," she called out, her eyes not leaving Chuck's face. "August 20," she said softly. "We've got a date. Don't forget that, Chuck."

"I won't," he said. "I promise. That's my promise to you. I won't forget August 20."

There were tears in her eyes, but she somehow huffed out a small laugh. "You do know this means now you can never forget our anniversary then, right?"

Chuck opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he shrugged and smiled at her. "Like I'd forget the day when Sarah Walker became my wife."

"Sarah?" Bryce said again.

"Coming!" she said, climbing off Chuck's lap. She quickly kissed his cheek. "Be careful. I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, feeling the diamond on her ring cut into his palm as he clenched his hand even tighter.

The look she gave him was full of so many emotions and thoughts, Chuck didn't think he'd be able to figure it out if he had a lifetime. But he didn't have a lifetime. He had six seconds. That was all he got before Sarah turned and walked out of the room, her shoulders unbowed and her steps firm.

That was his fiancée, he thought with a fierce swell of pride and hope and worry. That was his Sarah.

Chuck looked down at his hand and slowly opened his fingers. There were red marks on his palm from the diamond's sharp edges. But it was such a small thing, this ring. A little circle of soft metal with a bit of pressurized carbon on top. Sarah had such slight fingers. It was the only part about her that was slight.

Slowly, Chuck picked up the ring. His fingers were much too large. But that still didn't stop him from sliding the ring onto his pinkie, letting it rest against the first knuckle. And as he gazed at it, Chuck knew that he wouldn't let this ring out of his sight until Sarah was back. She had asked him to keep her ring safe . . . and that was what he would do.

End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can probably hear everyone getting their tar and feathers. Rest assured! The next story in this universe, called _Saving Moscow_ , will begin posting next Monday. I'm excited to bring you the story of Sarah going undercover at Volkoff Industries while Chuck is back in Burbank, and the two of them coping with each other's absence. Thank you for reading!


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